


Looking Through the Mirror

by newtntommy



Category: The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Anxiety Disorder, Depression, Dissociative Identity Disorder, F/M, M/M, Memory Loss, Past Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Sexual Abuse, Suicide Attempt, Triggers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-26
Updated: 2016-03-30
Packaged: 2018-05-09 11:51:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 26,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5538821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/newtntommy/pseuds/newtntommy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Newt starts college, he couldn't wait to continue his journey to his career - a photographer. The only thing that keeps him from focusing fully on his dream, is his roommate, Thomas. Having to adapt to anything when around Thomas, he can't help but feel his curiosity rise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please read the tags before proceeding to read. It's very triggering and pretty dark. **
> 
> Okay, so this story involves the dissociative identity disorder (multi personality disorder). I wanted to write something challenging, and here it is. For those probably wondering, I did major research for this, like seriously a shit load of research. It took me three weeks to write the outline alone, and I continue to have websites up as I write. I wanted to make sure I get a large portion of it right. I will say, I will definitely make mistakes, but I'd very appreciate it if you commented what's wrong about it. I do not intend on just making shit up. I researched every possible detail so I don't offend those who have this disorder. Also, it'd be very cool if you guys were to comment suggestions on what I can do to make this as realistic as possible.   
> I really hope you guys enjoy this. Reminder again, this is pretty triggering and probably really complicated to understand, but I swear it'll make sense at some point. If you think it'll trigger you in any way, PLEASE DON'T READ.   
> Again, hope you enjoy and comments are always appreciated.

The church bell dongs from across the street, and Newt peeks up at it. His eyelids flutter as Montana’s snow lands on his face, and he barely makes the hands out. He instead looks at his watch, seeing that it’s four o’clock. He curses under his breath and leans back into the backseat of his car to grab two of the suitcases. With a grunt, he drags them out and pulls out the handle to move them with. 

His muscles ache from being in the drivers seat for two hours, and he glares childishly at the bedsheets in the trunk of the car. With a defeated sigh, he presses the automatic button to lock the doors of his car. The snow crunches under his shoes as he struggles to the sidewalk with suitcases in hand. 

He peers up at the dorms, noticing only a few people were still moving their things in. The title of the school, Red Stone University, is printed at the very top of the dorms, and he fervently smiles at it. The memory of opening that acceptance letter makes his hold tighter onto the handles. The overjoyed proudness on his parents’ faces were picture-worthy, the photo still saved on his phone. They had felt terrible that they couldn’t come with him to help move in, but his phone continuously buzzing throughout the drive was their substitution. 

He groans when his phone starts up again, this time telling him he was getting a call. He scrambles for his keys and unlocks the door, pulling the suitcases in behind him with a frustrated curse. He picks the first bed he sees, and he flings his bags on it. 

Well, could’ve gotten a dorm on the second or third floor. 

He answers his phone on the last ring, his hello breathless and bitter. 

“That’s no way to speak your mother,” the woman on the other end responds. Newt chuckles and wipes the back of his neck. 

“Sorry mum, just got here. I want to do nothing but fall on that bed right now,” Newt jokes as he walks over to the piece of furniture. He glances at the walls. “It smells like paint in here.” 

His mother tsks in disapproval. “Two or three beds?” 

“Only two. My roommate’s name is Thomas Greene I think. Not here yet,” Newt answers easily. He moves his suitcases around, barely listening to his mother complain about not being there. He starts to head for the door. 

“You’re not missing anything. I’m going to bring my stuff in and then sleep until the morning probably,” Newt confesses with a worn out sigh. Once he reaches his car, he grabs the last suitcase and bag, thankful that his mum had offered to keep the rest of his things at home for him to get at anytime. 

He takes the luggage back to his room, and he listens to his mother talk about the house being insanely quiet now with him gone. His chest tightens as he thinks about it. The beginnings of homesick sparks in his lower abdomen, and he mentally pushes it away. 

It was how he had felt when his beloved sister left home for college, and he was lonely for days. The feeling is much worse this time, being the one moving out and into somewhere foreign. 

He takes out the sheet of paper in his pocket. “Which building did Sonya say she was staying in?” 

“Building eight. She’s at the very top. I don’t recall the number,” she answers, a hum playing in her voice. She huffs out a breath. “Don’t remind me of her empty bedroom. It hurts to know both of my babies aren’t under my roof anymore.” 

“Mum, don’t worry yourself. We’re both going to visit when we can, you know that,” Newt soothes. He can hear her voice shaking. He wishes he was there beside her. 

“Couldn’t you two have gone to a college closer? It wouldn’t hurt as bad,” she complains lightly with a weak laugh. Newt copies the laugh. 

“We’d probably visit the same amount of times there as we will here,” Newt tells her truthfully. His eyes glance at the time on his phone. “Sorry mum, I want to get unpacked and sleep. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?” 

It’s silent on the other end, and Newt listens close to hear something. He feels bad for making her go through this, but it was inevitable. He was always going to go here, and she was always going to react this way no matter where he went. He hears a sniffle. 

“Okay, love. If you don’t call, I’ll assume you’re dead and I’ll be up there before you know it,” she emptily threats. Newt smiles. 

“Okay, mum. I love you.” 

“I love you too, Newt.” 

Hanging up, Newt puts his phone on the bed. He ventures out the room again to go back to his car to get the last of his things. He snatches his phone charger, bag of toiletries, flashlight, extra pair of gloves, and his most precious possession. 

His camera. 

He hangs his camera around his neck, putting the other things on the hood of his car. He carefully steps through the snow, looking around at his surroundings. 

He always loved taking pictures. He loved having that second look of a past memory or event in his hand. It was an amazing concept for a piece of paper to hold precious memories like gems. He must have six photo albums full of pictures in his room, and he had a brand new one in one of his bags. He plans to fill it up full of pictures. He grins at the thought of his future self looking back at the stupid, priceless things he did in college. 

Ever since he was ten, he knew he wanted to be a photographer. He didn’t care what he would be taking photos of, he just wants to make a living with his camera. 

He aims the lens at the school’s name on the building, taking the first photo. He turns around, snapping at various things. Things that include the scenery, the buildings, the parking lot, his car, the door to his dorm, etc. 

He lets go of his camera, letting it hang from his neck. He grabs the things on his car’s roof, and then he’s walking to his dorm. He waves at the neighboring students around him, but he doesn’t stop to say hi. He closes the door behind him, leaving it unlocked for his dorm mate. He sets to work on organizing his side of the room. He packs his clothes in the wooden set of drawers, glad to have a free drawer for his camera, straps, and empty album. 

He was just exiting the bathroom after putting his things away, when the door opens to reveal his roommate. 

In walks in a boy his age with soft brown hair. Moles splatter along his cheeks, jaw, and neck. He was wearing a simple thick overcoat, sweats, and black boots. With a sigh, the boy drops two bags on the carpeted floor. He warms his hands up, breathing hot breath on them, and he spots Newt in the doorway. He gives the blond a smile. 

Newt can’t find words to speak. 

The male in front of him was incredibly attractive. From his honey colored eyes to his sweatpants, that seemed too snug around his bottom. Newt couldn’t describe him in anyway other than with words of admiration. His fingers twitch to get his camera. 

Realizing he’s done nothing but stare at the guy, he walks fully into the room. 

“You must be Thomas,” Newt states, taking a seat on his bed. Thomas ruffles through his bag. 

“If I must,” Thomas jokes, and then he’s speculating the room. He eyes the set of drawers longer than necessary, and Newt guesses he brought a lot of clothes. Without thinking about it, Newt speaks. 

“My mum and I didn’t know what was already in here, so I have a small set of plastic drawers in my car. You can use it if you don’t have enough room,” Newt offers. Newt runs his fingers through his hair, not believing he just said that. 

What else is he going to do? Offer him his bloody bed? 

Thomas waves him off with a smile. “It’s fine. I’ll put my clothes away later. Just going to get my other stuff from my car. Be back,” he says as he walks to the door. 

Newt doesn’t know why he does it, maybe feeling dumb for just standing there like an idiot, but when he sees Thomas about to walk out of sight, he calls after him. 

“Name’s Newt!” Newt introduces in a shout, scrambling off the bed. He holds onto the bedpost, fatigue settling on making him unbalanced. Thomas pauses at the door and looks back at him in wonder. “I’m here to be a photographer. I’m knackered so I thought I’d tell you now before I go to sleep.” 

The brunet stares at him in curiosity, and his eyes twinkle with amusement. The smile comes back to his lips. 

“Name’s Thomas,” he introduces again, only this time he said his name as if it was a peculiar alias rather than his name. His eyes are empty as he says it. “I’m here to be a veterinarian.” 

“Oh,” Newt lets out, too busy observing Thomas’s features. The words had came out like a record. The words didn’t fit him. Newt decides not to comment, figuring it may be from a long drive the male might’ve driven. Wanting to get rid of the bulky tension, he pipes up, “Well, nice to meet you, Tommy.” 

The nickname does the opposite, and Newt watches as Thomas’s eyes dart away and then return. A forced smile plays on his lips. The brunet nods, and then he’s out the door and into the chilly air. 

It leaves Newt bewildered, wondering why routine questions bothered the male so extremely. He hopes this doesn’t lead to silent, tensed nights with a roommate far too distant to talk comfortably to. That was the last thing he needs. 

A beep from his phone steals Newt’s attention, and he reaches for it. His stomach twists at the name he sees. 

Alby. 

_How are you settling in?_

With lip caught between his teeth, Newt texts back. 

_Fine._

He feels immature for getting so ruffled up from one simple text, but does he have to text him? Why couldn’t they be normal exes and stop talking to each other? Why does he insist on texting him every week? Did he not have anything better to do? 

His phone beeps again, and Newt rolls his eyes once he reads the incoming text. 

_That’s great to hear. Do you want to get coffee before classes tomorrow?_

Newt refuses to answer it, and he tosses the phone aside on his bed. He snatches it back moments later to make an alarm for the morning, stubbornly not looking at the message. He puts the phone on his nightstand, and then closes his eyes, quickly falling asleep. 

*** 

Newt wakes hours later to a heavy knock on the door. He groggily peers around and notices the bathroom door shut, and he groans at having no choice but to get up. He bumps into Thomas’s bed and drawers getting to the door, and he opens it to see a pizza delivery guy. He rubs at his eyes tiredly. 

“Pepperoni for Dylan?” 

“There isn’t anyone named Dylan here-“ 

“I’m Dylan!” Thomas abruptly yells as he jogs out of the bathroom. He grabs his wallet off his bed, pulling three fives out with a grin. “Thanks Gally, appreciate it.” 

“Anything for a seven dollar tip, man” Gally laughs, and Newt notices how the guy hasn’t looked at him once. “Have a good night.” 

“You too,” Thomas reciprocates while he takes the pizza with careful hands. He shuts the door with his foot, and places the pizza on his set of drawers, having no other place yet to put it. 

Newt crosses his arms. “Your name is Dylan?” Thomas’s eyes flicker at him nervously. He rubs at his right arm as he places a piece of pizza onto his plate. Newt notices how red Thomas is causing his skin to be. Must be a nervous habit. 

“Middle name,” Thomas dodges, and Newt tilts his head. 

“Your name is Thomas Dylan Greene?” Newt questions in utter disbelief, not at all believing Thomas’s answer. “You can’t expect me to believe-“ 

“It really is my name. Pizza?” 

“Is Dylan your name or not!” Newt questions bitterly, getting frustrated. Thomas stills with pizza in hand. His face tenses and brows furrow. 

“You can’t expect me to believe Newt is your name.” 

Newt sputters. “It _is_ my name,” he defends harshly with pink cheeks. Thomas clicks his tongue. 

“Mhm. Guess we’re at a draw then, yeah? Pizza?” Thomas repeats, voice strained. Newt purses his lips, but with a sigh, he takes the offered plate. With slanted eyes, Newt walks to his bed to sit. 

“I don’t know why you can’t tell me your name,” Newt mumbles stubbornly after he takes a bite. 

“You know two names. Pick one,” Thomas responds easily as he sits down facing Newt with his legs crossed. Newt rolls his eyes. 

“Fine, I like Thomas,” Newt states curtly. A grin forms on Thomas’s face, showing his amusement and victory. Thomas nods. 

“My name’s Thomas then.” 

*** 

The next morning, Newt wakes up to a quiet room. He hears a mass of chattering outside his door, and the reminder of where he’s at hits him like a train. He fights off the homesick, but knowing his parents aren’t going to be downstairs with breakfast ready makes his stomach twist in sorrow. The routine he’s had his whole life is never going to be repeated. He can only look forward for the weekends. 

A memory flashes in his mind of his fourteenth birthday, and he remembers his parents and sister busting into his room to wake him with a lighted cake. He had been so annoyed at being woken up, but now he yearns for his parents to open the door. He wants to relive that moment with his mum’s hair tied up in a bun, and his father wearing his silly Giants shirt. He wants to see those cheerful grins on their faces. 

He looks at the empty and gloomy room, feeling strange as to why he’s here. He snatches his phone and checks his sister’s class schedule – for she had emailed to him twice for cases like this. He sees that they both don’t have classes until tomorrow, and he jumps off his bed and hurriedly throws on clothes, not noticing what he’s wearing. He runs his hand through his hair lazily as he toes on his shoes. He grabs his wallet, phone, and keys before dashing out the door. 

He runs all the way to building eight, dreading the stairs to level three. Room number in mind, he knocks rapidly at the door. He doesn’t realize until he stops knocking that he left his jacket back in the room. He rubs his arms desperately to warm himself up. He can hear his sister’s scolding already. 

Though when the door opens, he grins mischievously at the blackmail he’ll use. The boy in front of him doesn’t notice, and he gives a welcoming smile and moves to the side for Newt to enter the room. 

“Hey Newt.” 

“Hey Aris,” Newt responds. He peers around the room, and right then Sonya walks out of the bathroom with wet hair. She’s drying her hair with a towel when she spots Newt. She smiles at him until she notices his grin. She grows guarded, and she looks him over with hard, careful eyes. 

“I didn’t know they said that Aris can be your roommate,” Newt snickers. Sonya’s face immediately turns pink and her jaw drops. She drops her towel and points her index finger at him challengingly. 

“You tell anyone, and I’ll kick your ass,” she threatens firmly, though Newt can tell she longs to smile. He rolls his eyes at the threat, and he heads over to bring her into a hug. He smiles as he smells Sonya’s shampoo, the familiar scent hitting his nose. She hugs eagerly back, them both relieved at no longer being separated by schools. 

He sighs into her hair. “I’m not going to tell about your precious two-year boyfriend living with you. Where’s your actual roommate?” 

She removes herself from him to go back to drying her long blond hair. She shrugs. “Probably staying with her boyfriend. She was really nice, but I don’t think she likes living on campus. She didn’t talk much. How’s your roommate?” 

Newt scoffs and goes to sit on the small couch. The rooms were set up about the same, with the exception of the freshmen dorms being a bit smaller. In here they were able to fit two beds, a small enough couch, and a TV if they were to get one. The standard TV lays in front of him, and he remembers being there with Sonya and Aris when she picked it out at a pawn shop. It had been a birthday gift from Aris. 

“He’s nice, but I’m pretty sure he’s lying about his name,” Newt admits grudgingly. Aris scrunches his face as he takes a seat next to Newt. 

“Why would anyone lie about their name?” Aris skeptics with a laugh. 

“Maybe he’s trying to find himself,” Sonya reasons with a shrug. Newt gives her a look. “What? He might be very confused about what he wants to do and who he wants to be.” 

“He told me he’s studying to be a veterinarian. He sounded pretty certain,” Newt explains with a frown. “You should’ve seen his whole body tense when I asked about his name. It was really weird.” 

“Dude, don’t worry about it. Just call him whatever he wants. He is your roommate. Could be an axe murderer,” Aris suggests with a fake gasp and mouth shaped in an ‘o’. 

“Aris! Don’t bloody say that,” Sonya chides, going over and hitting him with her towel. Aris grabs at her and brings her to his lap. She shouts at the action, but shrieks when he starts to tickle her sides. Newt groans. 

“I really don’t need to see this,” Newt whines, scooting farther away. He spots a particular brown box next to the TV. Happy to find a distraction, he leaves the couch to look inside. He sighs contently when he sees what’s inside. 

“You brought all our videogames! Can we play? I couldn’t have less to do today,” Newt pleads as he searches through the games. 

“You need to go around town and find a job! Oh! Work at the diner with me,” Sonya suggests with a clap. Her smile is wide across her lips. Newt raises an eyebrow dubiously. 

“You and I both know that I would make a terrible server. You’re the one who says I frown all the time!” Newt argues with a chuckle. He picks out a game and goes over to slide it into the xbox. He grabs three controllers, bringing them to the couch. Aris takes it excitedly. 

“Just smile more, and you’ll do fine,” Sonya retorts pathetically. She turns the TV on. 

“It’s not happening, babe. I agree with Newt,” Aris comments as he picks his player. Newt grins, nudging Aris’s shoulder. Sonya hmphs. 

“Traitor. You’re supposed to be on my side,” she says disappointedly. 

“Don’t worry, babe. I’ll kick Newt’s ass with you,” Aris tells her with a wink. Newt gasps. 

“You two are evil. I will beat both of you,” Newt claims triumphantly. Sonya rolls her eyes. 

“Yeah okay, little brother.” 

*** 

After sorely losing seven games out of ten, Newt leaves in defeat. He leaves the campus on foot, and walks around the area in search for work. He walks with a red face, an orange beanie with a flowery design lays on his head. Aris thankfully was the one to offer one of his own jackets, so he wasn’t entirely dressed like an idiot. 

He quickly is grateful for the beanie, the snow almost turning his ears blue until he pulled the beanie down more smugly. 

The roads aren’t that busy, only a few cars passing by as he walks. Hardly anyone was walking around, and he walks in silence, looking at windows for ‘Help Wanted’ signs. He passes by a few, refusing to work at some book store, grocery store, or fast food restaurant. 

He also spends time on the phone with his mum, who had been ecstatic to get a call from him. 

He digs his hands in his pockets once the wind picks up, and he curses as he sees snow beginning to fall. He was going to call it off, maybe go home and look around online, but then he spots a bagel shop. 

How bad can working at a bagel shop be? 

He enters the shop, noticing the two ‘Now Hiring’ signs on the front. His nose is hit with scents of coffee and muffins as soon as he opens the door. Only two people were eating at tables, and he goes straight to the registers. He peers around and sees a case full of various amount of bagels, muffins, sweets, etc. He sees a counter with five or six coffee pots. It looks like a nice, cozy place to work at. 

“Hey, you’re Thomas’s roommate right?” 

Newt spins around and sees the male from last night who delivered the pizza. He doesn’t remember the guy’s name unfortunately, so he only smiles with a wave. Newt sees him eye his beanie, but thankfully he doesn’t comment on it. 

“Name’s Gally. Probably gonna see me quite a few times, so may as well tell me your name,” Gally advises lightly, leaning on the counter. 

“Newt,” he informs him. “Aren’t you a pizza delivery guy?” 

“Yeah. I work here some mornings, but my main job is delivering pizza. This place closes at four so afterwards I go work there,” Gally explains. He gestures to the menus. “Did you want to order anything?” 

Newt straightens up, remembering why he’s here. “No, I saw the hiring sign, and I was going to ask for an application.” 

“Oh, really? That’s great, man. Here,” Gally says ardently and reaches below the counter, coming up with a piece of paper. His shoulders slack. “I’ll tell Jorge about you. I’ll make sure he interviews you as long as you fill out the application.” 

“Thanks, mate,” Newt graces, taking the paper. He nods over to the tables while he grabs for one of the pens on the counter. “Going over there. Be back.” 

“See you,” Gally reciprocates. 

Newt sits at one of the tables in the corner. He begins filling the application out. He has to take his phone to look at his schedule before writing which days he can work. 

Every once in awhile, he glances outside to watch the falling snow. It was a beautiful scenery. The area was set up where the buildings are formed in a semi circle with benches and a water fountain in the middle of it all. He wishes he had his camera. He should definitely start bringing it everywhere he goes. He watches as students stroll in the snow, most likely to get their minds off school. 

There’s a pause in the snow, where he can see clearly, and he looks over at the grassy area in front of the college. He sees someone sitting against a tree, writing something in a book. He’s about to look away before his eyesight adjusts. He’s not for certain, but the person sort of looks like Thomas. He stands up and walks closer to the window, and he checks again. 

It is definitely Thomas. 

He goes back to his form, and he fills out the last section. He jogs back to where Gally was, and he hands him the application. Gally glimpses at it. 

“I’ll give this to Jorge. He’ll probably call you later today,” Gally guesses. “He’s a cool guy I promise. You’ll like him.” 

“I believe you. Can’t wait to meet him, but I remembered something I gotta go do. See you around, mate,” Newt tells him as he turns to leave with a wave. Gally bites his lip, and his whole stance turns rigid. 

“You tell me if you and Thomas have problems okay?” 

The voice is strained and concern is written all over Gally’s face. It was nearly intimidating the way he asked it. It makes Newt wonder who exactly he’s sharing a room with.   
He nods anyway, and then he leaves without another word. He jogs across the street, and slowly makes his way over to Thomas, who he now sees is drawing on a pad of paper. His full attention was into his work, not seeming to hear Newt come up. He looks different from yesterday, but the distinction is slight. The dissimilarities only includes little details like how his hair doesn’t have gel in it to make it a small swoop upwards, his vibrant clothes rather than the bland ones, and the way his face is more tense and concentrated. 

Sonya’s comment about the boy trying to find himself comes back to him, and he concludes she must be right. 

“Thomas?” Newt calls out loud enough to spook the boy. The male jumps and drops his notepad and pen on the grass. He peers up at Newt, and Newt sees the beauty of his honey eyes again. 

Oddly though, those same eyes are looking at him with pure confusion and with no recognition. It befuddles Newt at how Thomas was looking at him, as if they haven’t met before. 

He was about to walk away and speak to whoever’s in charge of room and board, but then something flashes in Thomas’s eyes, and the male finally settles. A smile forms on his lips, and he picks up his notepad. 

“You must be Newt. He told me about you,” Thomas tells him, looking away to go back to drawing. Newt furrows his eyebrows. 

“Who did?” Newt asks defensively, not enjoying how Thomas was acting. Who told Thomas about him? Did he have a memory loss condition? Will he have to introduce himself to this guy every day? 

Realizing his mistake, Thomas’s face reddens as he sputters for an answer. “Nothing, nevermind. I’m thinking of something else.” 

Newt has no other choice but to let it go. He can see Thomas bringing himself into an anxiety attack, and that’s the last thing he needs. Instead, he sits down next to the male. Another contrast becomes visible, and he sees how twitchy and jumpy Thomas is now. Thomas’s eyes are on him more than the paper as he draws. Thomas's free hand is on his head, playing with strands of his hair. Newt peers over Thomas’s shoulder. 

“Whatcha drawing?” Newt asks in interest. Thomas shrugs, fingers twitching as if he wanted to hide whatever he was drawing. 

He never does though, nor does he outwardly move the paper for Newt to see. “I draw whatever comes to mind. It’s something I like doing.” 

Newt nods in understanding. “I get it. I have the same problem but with pictures. I’ll take pictures of anything that catches my eye.” 

“Interesting,” Thomas notes. 

Seeing as Thomas is going back to drawing, Newt pulls his phone out of his pocket. Not having anyone to text, he decides to play games to pass the time. Not a word peeps out of Thomas as they sit, and it was actually quite relaxing. With only minimum peeks at Thomas’s drawing, he plays on his phone quietly. 

A half hour ago passes when an alarm goes off. Newt looks down at Thomas’s phone, now seeing that it was laying on the grass in between their feet. He waits for Thomas to acknowledge it, but seconds go by and Thomas doesn’t move. He keeps sitting with pencil in hand. 

Though, Newt notices that Thomas isn’t drawing anymore. Strangely, Thomas was barely holding onto the pencil. Newt peeks up at Thomas’s face, and he sees how incredibly distant the brunet’s eyes appear. He was staring in front of him, and Newt checks to see that nothing was there but a building. He brings his hand in front of Thomas’s eyes, but doesn’t get a hint of a response. The male only sits there, frozen in place, staring ahead in a daze. 

Frightened at what’s happening, Newt shakes Thomas’s shoulder. “Thomas!” 

The action does nothing, and he grows more alarmed. He goes to sit on his knees as he calls out Thomas’s name. He watches hypnotized as Thomas’s pencil falls to the grass. Thomas makes no move to get it. 

It’s when he grabs Thomas’s wrist that he finally gets a reaction. 

Thomas gradually moves his head towards him, but never makes eye contact with him. He blinks after what feels like minutes, and Newt can breathe again. He holds firmer on Thomas’s wrist, egging him on to pull himself out of whatever he’s stuck in. 

Thomas’s eyes are still distant, but he reaches for his phone with his free hand. He looks at it with a hard stare, until eventually he turns off the alarm. 

Thomas pulls himself out of Newt’s hold, and he stands up with notepad and pencil in hand. He peers around as if it was the first time seeing his surroundings. A moment later, he gives Newt a weak wave before walking away. 

Newt still sits on the grass, and he watches Thomas until he disappears in the distance. 

“What the fuck?” 

*** 

“And that’s it for today. Don’t forget to get your books. Need them for next time.” 

Newt gratefully grabs his things, glad to be done for the day. The first day has started unnerving and anxiety ridden, but the later it became, it got easier. 

He had two classes on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and he had two different classes Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. The classes are fairly packed, and nobody really stood out. Newt assumes it’s from the fatigue that every morning class thrusts upon you. It was going to be a fine semester if it continues on like that. 

He met two interesting people in calculus: Minho and Teresa. Minho was sarcastic, smart, witty, and entertaining. When the professor had told them about how it’s going to be an easy year, Minho had given the most disbelieving ‘are you fucking kidding me’ expression, and Newt knew they were going to be great friends. 

Teresa was smart mouthed, distant, quiet, observant, and sweet all packed into one person. She didn’t say much, but she always looked like she had thousands of things on her mind. Newt guesses her and Minho are a thing considering the rather close position they shared with Teresa’s head on his shoulder and her feet intertwined with his under the table. Though, he never saw them hold hands. He instead just saw her with her arm around his lower back. 

They had hung out between classes. Apparently Minho was studying to be a physical trainer, and Teresa a lawyer. Newt could’ve easily guessed. 

They exchanged numbers and classes. Minho already got a job at a skating rink, and Teresa’s mum got her a job at her jewelry store. They work every Tuesday, Wednesday, Saturday, and Sunday so unfortunately they couldn’t hang out. Minho invites him over to the skating rink whenever he can, and Newt makes it a deal to see him sometime this week. 

Newt had English with Thomas. He almost went to go sit with him, but then the brunet moved to a seat in the back of the class. Always one to sit near the front, he chose to sit there instead. Though, even with their seating, Newt still managed to watch Thomas during class. 

He was quite the quiet one, never saying a word. He wrote furiously on a sheet of paper with math book open. He was in his own little world as he worked, pressing determinedly at this calculator. Between writing and calculating, Newt catches Thomas rubbing at his arm. He did it so mindlessly, that Newt doubts Thomas realizes he's doing it. Thomas's face screamed concentration, and it was an amazing sight. Thomas never once seemed to acknowledge the professor, and Newt wonders how Thomas is understanding this. Was he making it up as he goes? 

He wonders until the professor calls on him, and Thomas answers correctly to whichever problem they’re on. The professor looks at him proudly before moving on. Newt then decides not to underestimate the boy. 

The memory of Thomas in such a hazy state pops in his head, and he wonders what’s wrong with the male to make him do that. He had looked so confused and out of it, and he had been looking at his hands in pure confusion and speculation. Nothing added right when it came to Thomas, and Newt planned to find out what’s wrong with him. 

Though when Newt enters his dorm, he finds two men working on a brand new TV with Thomas sitting on a new mini couch. The couch lays between their two beds, with just enough room for them to go to bed. He stands up as soon as he sees Newt. His eyes don’t reach Newt’s, and his fingers twitch nervously. He gestures to the TV. 

“My dad…he wanted me to have a TV,” Thomas chuckles lightly as if Newt was about to scream at him. He reminds Newt of a kid being caught stealing cookies. 

Newt looks behind Thomas. “And movies and a xbox,” Newt concludes in befuddlement. “That was thoughtful.” 

“Hope you don’t mind. I meant to ask you, but I don’t have your number,” Thomas worries, rubbing his arm. Newt snorts and walks around Thomas to his bed. 

“Pretty sure no one would have a problem with their roommate bringing in a TV,” Newt friendly teases, causing Thomas’s face to turn pink. The brunet walks over to his own bed and searches through his bag for something. Newt’s eyes widen when he notices two objects on the bed. 

“Do you play football?” Newt asks, impressed as he stands up to look closer at the cleats. They look almost brand new. 

Thomas spins around with his jaw dropped, face displaying distress and concern. Newt jumps back at the quick move, and he sees Thomas’s chest rise and lower fast with panted breaths. “Fuck, are those the wrong shoes? I need soccer shoes.” 

Newt falls into fits of laughter as he registers what Thomas said. Thomas’s worry escalates, and Newt feels bad for the guy. He shakes his head, continuing to laugh. 

“Nah, mate. In England we say football for soccer. Don’t worry, you have soccer shoes,” Newt clarifies in comfort, laughter dying down. Thomas sighs in relief, and moves his new shoes and puts them under his bed. “How long have you been playing soccer?” 

Thomas tenses immediately, his brows furrow and he bites his lip in thought. “Think it’s been five years?” 

Newt nods slowly. “What position do you play?” 

Paleness drafts over Thomas’s face and neck, and he looks like he’s about to be sick. He toys with his backpack’s straps restlessly. He mutters under his breath. 

“Midfielder,” Thomas eventually says, though the word comes out a question more than an answer. 

“Do you not like playing or-“ 

“No, I do! I’m just really tired, man. Long day,” Thomas rambles with a forced yawn as he stretches his arms over his head. Newt nods understandingly . He walks over to his bed.   
“I picked up some sandwiches from down the street. Want one?” Newt offers as he takes out the two subs. Thomas is by his side in an instant. 

“Yes, please, you’re the best,” Thomas laughs gratefully. He picks one of the subs and sits down on his bed. He opens the wrapper eagerly. Newt laughs when he sees meatball sauce drip onto his shirt. Thomas reminds him of a little kid. He’s reminded of when he thought Thomas was attractive the day they met. The brunet sure was frustrating, but he was nice and gentle in a way. He could’ve definitely gotten a worse roommate. 

He sits comfortably on his bed, and he takes a bite out of his sandwich. “How did you like professor Peterson? She’s helpful, but she definitely goes fast, yeah?” 

Thomas falters a bit, taken back by the question. His eyes are restless, not looking back at the blond. This time, Newt doesn’t get irritated by the lack of memory, or whatever that’s not quite ticking in Thomas’s head. It actually intrigues him, and he sits his dinner down. He tilts his head, his eyes roaming over Thomas’s slouched posture. 

Finally, Thomas shakes his head and mumbles, “I didn’t pay attention. I was in an advanced math class back in high school. Math is one of my favorite subjects.” 

“Really?” Newt gasps, forgetting his food entirely. Thomas nods with a wide, proud smile. Newt scoffs. “I despise math. Number one nightmare.” 

“Math kept me busy,” Thomas hiccups. Newt wonders what he meant by that. Thomas throws the plate away into the makeshift garbage can, and shoves the rest of his things off the bed. With a deep stretch, he leans back onto the bed with a sigh and a smile. Newt wonders how it’d feel to run his fingers through the sleepy male’s hair as he falls asleep.   
He eats the last bite, and goes to throw his own plate away. His throat is dry, and he’s about to go out to get a water bottle from a nearby machine, but then Thomas cuts in. 

“My dad got us a mini fridge. We already had one, but he wasn’t happy with it,” Thomas laughs while he rubs tiredly at his eyes. “He stocked it up with water bottles if you’re interested.” 

“Your dad is quite the planner,” Newt chuckles. He walks over to the fridge and takes out a water bottle and then goes to lay down on his bed. He hears Thomas shrug. 

“He’s a doctor at a kids hospital, Dr. Janson. He’s been a perfectionist ever since I met him.” 

“Met?” It’s too late though. Thomas has dozed off before Newt gets the question out. Newt purses his lips and shakes his head. 

“You sure are a mystery, Tommy,” Newt tells the sleeping boy, knowing he can’t hear him. 

He lazily gets off the bed and heads to the bathroom to get ready for bed. He brushes his teeth quickly, spitting into the sink once he’s done. He’s washing off his toothbrush when he notices a small bag of toiletries on top of the toilet. It held a toothbrush, a hair brush, floss, and other objects. Newt eyes the open space he had specifically kept for Thomas’s things, and sees not even a piece of hair was there. 

He’s too tired to question it, deciding to move on. He goes back into the room and practically flops onto his bed with a huff. With one last peek at Thomas, he relaxes into the covers and dreams of soft hands, a face covered with moles, and unmistakable honey eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More Minho, Teresa, and Sonya. Also, Thomas has an accident.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry it's been forever! I just wanted to finish my other fic since I was so close to being done. I start college this week so honestly I don't know how often I'll be able to update. I sure hope once a week. 
> 
> I hope this chapter is good. I put details in to explain why Newt is so hesitant at the end, and why he thinks how he does (at least a bit of an explanation and not some poor planning and thinking on my part). 
> 
> Please comment your thoughts :)

“I have the strangest bloody roommate in the history of roommates,” Newt mumbles mildly high as he jumps in time for the arrows to pass on the screen. Teresa huffs beside him, missing the same arrow. The song Moves Like Jagger gets disrupted by an annoying round of beeps at Teresa’s loss. Newt chuckles drunkenly, twisting his body around to land perfectly on the left and up arrows.

“I did not get this dancing game for us so you can beat my ass at it,” Teresa gripes, almost slipping when she turns to land on the down arrow on the mat.

“You’re not listening to me!” Newt whines, facing her now the song is over. He sees her pick One More Night. He nearly laughs at her obsession with Adam Levine.

“What am I supposed to say, Newt?” Teresa sighs. She hurries to put her hair in a bun in time for the next round. “I tell you to apply for a new roommate, you shut me down. I tell you to pretend he’s not there, you say you can’t. Not my fault you have this weird crush on him! I get it, he’s attractive, but God at what cost?”

“My micro crush on the guy has nothing to do with it! It’s plain curiosity. What do you think is wrong with him?” Newt argues. He glances at the clock above the TV and sees it’s almost four. Thomas’s last class ends at five.

Teresa shrugs right before a quick turn to the left. “He could be bipolar.”

“Being bipolar doesn’t cause you to wear different styles of clothes every day,” Newt dismisses. Teresa chokes out a laugh.

“What, you have a chart under your bed saying what all he’s been wearing these past few weeks? Sure, you’re not in love with him,” she comments with sarcasm dripping from her smirking lips. Newt purposely hits her shoulder right when he pivots to the right. It makes her lose her footing, and she scolds him.

“How can I not notice? He wakes up routinely at exactly eight o’clock to get to his first class. He either acknowledges me or he doesn’t. If he does, he either says something nice or something rude. Some days he wears bland clothes, some he wears bright colors, and sometimes he wears glasses. What can that possibly mean?” Newt asks with annoyance. Once the song is over, he sits down next to the mat.

“Maybe he’s an actor,” Teresa tries.

“He wants to be a veterinarian,” Newt corrects. Teresa rolls her eyes, sitting down beside him.

“He tells you once he wants to be a veterinarian, and you take it to heart. You told me your sister said maybe he’s trying to find himself. Maybe he finds that acting is a way for him to procrastinate finding himself?” Teresa suggests seriously.

“That was deep,” Newt teases while nodding and grinning. Teresa waves him off.

“Shut it. I’m going to play by myself,” she huffs, grabbing the controller to pick a song.

Newt half heartedly rolls his eyes and lays on his back. Teresa doesn’t understand. If she was there to see exactly how Thomas was, she would get how he can’t ignore him. No one can ignore Thomas.

He’s been watching for the past two weeks. Thomas wakes up every day, including the weekends, at eight o’clock to the song I’m A Mess by Ed Sheeran. He goes into the bathroom, brushes his hair, and then brushes his teeth while oddly standing away from the sink the entire time.

After that, he goes to change into day clothes, choosing between three drawers. A few times, Newt’s seen him grab a set of clothes and put them in his bag. Newt hasn’t asked, but the question has always been at the tip of his tongue. One day he nearly willed himself into peeking into Thomas’s drawers, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He refuses to be invading.

Eleven out of the fourteen days, Thomas said good morning to Newt. The other days, Thomas barely glanced at him. When Newt is out of bed and eating cereal, those days included Thomas completely ignoring him no matter if Newt said good morning. He blew him off with a slam of the door.

It was the most irritating and confusing thing he’s ever dealt with.

On Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, Thomas comes to the dorm and either gets on his laptop, goes out an hour later, or goes to sleep. The days he goes to sleep, he wakes up an hour later and watches movies on his laptop. Newt doesn’t stay up late enough to see if he goes to sleep again. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, Thomas has classes in the afternoon, and he doesn’t get to the dorm until ten.

During the two weekends, Thomas would watch TV with Newt, have small conversations, and then leave for most of the day. If Newt asked him where he was going, Thomas will either say soccer or out to study.

There was only one time when Thomas had an episode replicated to the one he had the second day. It was last Saturday, and they were watching Parks and Recreation when Newt peeked at him to find Thomas staring at a spot on the wall. His eyes were distant and foggy as if he was looking at nothing. It only took a whisper of Thomas’s name and him grasping his wrist for Thomas to come to again. Thomas had jolted at his touch, but did come to. He continued to watch TV as if nothing happened.

Thomas was one big maze, that Newt was desperate to solve. Maybe it was time to ask personal questions.

Newt jumps when suddenly a door opens, and he looks up to find Minho. He throws his bag lazily onto Teresa’s bed and goes over to Teresa. He wraps his arm around her waist.

“Is the roommate still the joker?” Minho taunts with a wink at Newt. Newt lets out a dry laugh. Teresa scoffs.

“He’s not that cool,” she teases. Newt rolls his eyes and stands up. He grabs his bag.

“Now that you’re here, I’m going to go,” Newt says walking to the door.

“Don’t be mean like that, you’re coming to the rink right?” Minho calls after him. He gets the controller from Teresa, turning one player to two player.

Newt nods. “Of course, see you two later.” He listens to them shout a goodbye as he walks out the dorm. He takes his phone out of his pocket when it goes off, saying he got an email.

He opens the email to find a schedule. He smiles triumphantly, and he unlocks the door to his dorm and walks in. He flips on the TV and peeks at the schedule. He writes his hours on the calendar above his bed, silently cursing when he sees he’ll only have three days to write his English essay.

He’s about to text Gally when the door opens to reveal Thomas. He’s wearing a purple Skillet band shirt, brown pants, and a long black coat. He takes off his beanie and tosses it onto his bed along with his bag. Newt can’t help but smile in return when Thomas smiles at him.

Seeing the opportunity, he stands up. “There’s a House marathon playing all day. Do you want to watch with me?” Newt asks, his stomach twisting with anxiety. It takes Thomas by surprise too, Newt notices by the way he runs his hand through his hair and holds it there. His eyes flicker to his bed, as if it were to save him somehow, but he looks back at Newt.

“Uh, sure. I like that show,” Thomas mutters as he takes a seat on the couch. His body is tense where he sits, but a small smile still rests on his face. It gives Newt the courage to sit next to him, and he changes the channel to House. He forgets about the tension enough to relax once he sees House hiding in one of the ER rooms watching his soap opera. He laughs and sits back against the couch.

He looks to his right to find Thomas sitting in a ball, his knees pressed against his chest as he watches the screen. His fingers are in his hair, his other hand holding up his chin.

Newt can’t hold back his smile at the cute sight. The urge to talk to him skyrockets, making him want to say something… _anything_. He feels crazy for wanting this so bad, but it floods his mind. It has his chest tight and fingers twitch. He’s opening his mouth before he can stop himself.

“Were you going to go out? Where do you go?” Newt questions. He regrets it immediately at the such invading questions. He shouldn’t have asked something so invading, but it was the first thing to come to his head. He nearly takes the questions back, but Thomas suddenly sits up. His eyes don’t meet his, and he moves closer into the corner of the couch.

“Yeah…I was. I go to the museum,” Thomas confesses. His voice is nervous, obviously it taking a lot to let out. Newt gives himself the illusion that maybe he’s the only one who knows where Thomas goes.

“That’s cool,” Newt comments with an encouraging nod. He hopes Thomas doesn’t stop there. He thinks he does until Thomas speaks again.

“I actually work at the pet store a few blocks down. I work there Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays. My dad knew someone and got me a job there,” Thomas explains carefully. Newt has a mini heart attack when Thomas looks at him for the first time.

“You like dealing with animals, huh?” Newt asks curiously.

“Yeah. Our house is full of them. I have four dogs and two cats,” Thomas explains with a laugh. Newt snorts.

“Your dad is really nice then, yeah?” Newt asks, wanting desperately to get into the family questions. Thomas nods, and Newt finds his smile widening at how the brunet loosens up in front of him. His shoulders lax, and he wasn’t scratching so hard at his head.

“He’s been really helpful. I really appreciate everything he does,” Thomas tells him. His voice is even relaxed.

Catching the opportunity, Newt asks the question. “The other night you said something about meeting your dad, Janson. Is he your step-dad or what?”

It seems as though every muscle in Thomas’s body suddenly freezes. The relaxation he’s been able to win over goes away as if Thomas had a switch on his back. His fingers are back in his hair, and if it wasn’t for the TV, the room would be as silent as the night. Newt swears he can hear Thomas’s racing heart.

Fuck.

“Janson…yes. Yes, he is my step-dad,” Thomas answers in stutters. It comes out as more of a question than an answer, and it has Newt more confused than before he asked.

“I’ve known him for ten years,” Thomas adds, voice holding confidence unlike his previous statement. It sounds as if he was trying to convince himself and not Newt. His eyes fly around, looking at everything, but nothing. Newt carefully moves closer. He wants to ask about his parents, but he doesn’t want Thomas to completely freak out on him. He needs to be careful. It reminds him of when one finds a scared dog in an alley.

“Have any siblings?” Newt asks cautiously, working his voice to not sound so prying. He can breathe again when Thomas’s facial features visually soften. He looks angelic, and Newt wants to grab his camera.

“I have a sister. She’s lovely,” Thomas says with an affectionate smile, looking back at the TV. Newt straightens up.

“Does she go here? What’s her name?” Newt asks quickly. The thought of talking to Thomas’s sister about him has him excited. Someone can explain why Thomas was so off.

Newt deflates when he sees Thomas’s smile fade. His eyes turn distant and confusion spreads across his face.

Does he not know where his sister is?

“I haven’t seen her in a while.” Thomas’s voice is deadpan, emotion gone except for disorientation.

“Is she with your parents?” Newt asks, careful with his wording. He doesn’t want to sound invading, knowing the topic of parents was fragile to Thomas. It can easily be compared to walking on thin ice.

“Yeah,” Thomas answers, barely audible. Newt can see the brunet leave again, and his stomach flips. He bravely places his hand on Thomas’s shoulder.

“Why is she with them, and you’re with your step-dad-Shit!” Newt jumps back in fright, barely missing Thomas’s hand that reaches for him.

Thomas is in front of him, leaning over from where he is now standing. Thomas’s brown eyes are now sinister black, and they glare at Newt aggressively. Newt feels his heart beating against his chest, and his head spins from the incredible turn of events.

“That is _none_ of your fucking business! How dare you ask such personal questions? I don’t want you to know me. I don’t want you anywhere near me, you invasive piece of shit,” Thomas spits out, voice seething through his teeth. His jaw is clenched, eyes strained, and his mouth is slanted in a sneer. Newt is speechless, unable to take a breath, too scared to make a sound. He sinks back into the couch when Thomas moves away, heading for the door.

Newt jumps and brings his knees to his chest when Thomas slams the mini fridge down forward, creating a harsh boom that rattles the room. Newt’s hands shake at the slam of the door, and he fights for air. He tries to calm his racing heart, and he swallows the bile working up his throat from nausea.

Once he’s able to, he stands up on shaky feet. He goes over to the pushed over fridge, and puts it back where it was. He puts the items back inside, and he eyes the door, ready to stand defensively if it were to open.

He can’t shake the memory off. The sight of Thomas looking at him with so much rage is stitched in his head, and he doesn’t understand what just happened. He can’t comprehend what just happened, and he doesn’t know what to do.

The fear of Thomas coming back again drives him to get up, grab his stuff, and run out the door.

***

Headlights flash across his windshield, and the sound of speeding cars rush past Newt as he sits in his car. The heat blares on him, and the windshield wipers work to keep the falling snow from sticking. The word ‘DINER’ shines at him. He taps his fingers on the wheel impatiently, eyeing the clock.

There’s no other car in the parking lot, besides for the three cars owned by the workers. Newt opens his door when the diner’s entrance door opens, and he’s hit with cold evening air, and he crosses his arms for warmth. Sonya falters when she sees him, but then she gives a small smile before walking over. The apron she still wears flaps in the wind. She peeks around him.

“Where’s Aris?”

“I told him I was going to get you,” Newt tells her, going around to open the door for her. She goes to enter the car, but she stops to give him a look of recognition.

“Mountain time?”

Newt laughs flatly. “Yeah.”

Sonya says nothing throughout the whole ride, and Newt appreciates it. She has never said anything during the ride to their spot. It was a silent agreement they had made the first couple times.

‘Mountain time’ consisted of the both of them going to the tall hill just outside of town. It looked over the city, where they’ll talk over everything that’s bothering them. Very few people go up there, and it was a shame with how beautiful the view is up there. They usually venture up there twice a month. Due to Sonya being in college and Newt in high school, they didn’t go up there more than once every two months. Now though, they can get together and go up there whenever necessary.

Newt grasps Sonya’s hand, helping her trudge up the hill in the snow. They make it up the hill in no time, and they walk over to their bench. Newt slips on his gloves, feeling the cold get worse. Sonya comes to sit to his right.

It’s silent for a moment, Newt collecting his thoughts and Sonya letting him.

“Thomas yelled at me today,” Newt starts, wincing at how pathetic it sounds. Sonya must’ve not thought so. She turns her body towards him stiffly.

“What do you mean?”

“He just…yelled. It was random. We were talking about his sister, and how she lived with their parents. I only asked why he was living with his step-dad and not them, and then he started yelling at me. He went from calm to…not crazy, but… I don’t know, I guess crazy works,” Newt explains. His voice growing loud every few words due to the wind picking up. “It took me by surprise, and honestly it scared me.”

Sonya is quiet, brows furrowed to show she’s deep in thought. “What happened afterwards?”

“He left. Well, he left after knocking the fridge down.” He slides his gloves off and gives them to Sonya, seeing how red her hands are. Sonya takes them gratefully.

“You need to get a new roommate. This can’t be safe,” Sonya tells him, voice serious. “From the start, I can see why it would interest you. It would’ve interested anyone, but if he’s going to go berserk like that, then I don’t want you living with him, Newt.”

“What if he needs help though, Sonya? What if he seriously needs help?” Newt asks in defense. Sonya sighs, looking forward at the city below them.

“Have you talked to mum about it?”

“No, she’ll probably order me to apply for a new roommate,” Newt chuckles plainly. Sonya hums and crosses her arms.

“And I would be on her side for that one,” Sonya says with slanted eyes. Newt nudges her side, and Sonya lets up slightly. “This crush you have on him shouldn’t be why you want to help him.”

Newt parts his lips to deny, but Sonya beats him to it. “I know you better than you do. I know when you have a crush on someone,” Sonya scolds lightly. “You have a habit to want to help people. Thomas having a problem of some sort shouldn’t be the reason you like him. Like Alby-“

“We are not talking about Alby,” Newt interrupts harshly. He hisses when Sonya pinches his arm.

“Has he texted you?”

“Yes, but we’re not talking about him right now, okay? We’ll talk about him later,” Newt tells her, begging her to drop it. Luckily she does, though she keeps the worry in her eyes. “I don’t even know if I have a crush on Thomas. All I know, is that he’s nice most of the time, and he needs help. It’s not Alby again, alright?”

Sonya side-eyes him, showing her inner conflict of believing him or not. Newt doesn’t blame her. She was only worried, and she has every right to be.

“Okay fine, say I believe you. If he’s living in a dorm for college, don’t you think he’s got it covered? You said his step-dad got him a bunch of stuff for the room. He obviously takes care of Thomas, and he’s a doctor. What if Thomas is just having a few problems that happen regularly?” Sonya reasons.

“Well, why wasn’t I informed of this? Of whatever is wrong with him?”

“He’s nineteen. He probably didn’t want anyone knowing,” Sonya guesses. Her face hardens. “You tell me if he hurts you, and I’ll kick his ass. I’ll have Aris kick his ass too, and your new friend Minho,” Sonya demands, her tone gaining humor, but Newt can tell it was mostly sincere. “We’ll all whoop his ass.”

Newt laughs. “I will, promise.” He looks out, eyeing the snow falling on the trees and buildings. He should really bring his camera everywhere he goes. So many things to take pictures of.

“What if you went and spoke to his dad? Find out which hospital he works at and go talk to him. Thomas is your roommate, I don’t know why his step-dad wouldn’t tell you,” Sonya suggests.

“Maybe. I’ll probably go talk to Gally. He has to know something by the way he keeps telling me to tell him if anything happens. Plus, he was there when Thomas went by ‘Dylan’,” Newt tells her. 

The idea of going to Gally or Thomas’s step-dad didn’t sit right with him. It might be helpful, but they might not tell him everything. He wants to find everything out himself. If he has to sneak into his mum’s office to get her books, he will.

He flinches when suddenly a phone goes off. Sonya moves to pull her phone out of her pocket and answers.

“Hey, babe, woah-“

“I’m fine, I’m here with Newt. I thought he told you-“

“Aris, I love you, but if you interrupt me again, I’ll slap you.” Newt grins at that. Sonya sighs, standing up from the bench. She rolls her eyes dramatically at Newt, who laughs.

“Fine, I’m on my way, okay? Ten minutes,” Sonya promises, before hanging up. Newt raises an eyebrow.

“Worried Aris?” Sonya barks out a laugh with a nod. “He does know I’m your brother right? I’ll hurt anyone who tries to touch you.”

“Apparently that’s not good enough for him,” Sonya chuckles, obviously trying to seem annoyed. Newt sees right through it. She likes it when Aris is like this. He stands up and starts walking.

“Let’s go before your boyfriend has a heart attack,” Newt teases, taking careful steps down the hill. Sonya laughs from behind him.

“Agreed.”

***

Music blares in Newt’s ears when he walks into the skating rink. The stench of dirty socks and sweat wafts into his nose, and he scrunches his nose as he looks around the room for his friends. Twinkling lights shine in the room from the disco ball, and Newt spots people wearing glow-in-the-dark bracelets and necklaces. He dodges a few people – the smell of alcohol hitting him then – during his walk to the front desk, and he sighs in relief when he looks into the food court and sees Minho talking to Teresa. He sprints over, moving out of people’s way as he does so.

When he makes it over, he pokes Teresa in the side, who squeaks with a small jump. “Hey, guys.”

“Hey, man,” Minho responds. He’s called over to get popcorn, and Teresa turns towards him. He sees now she’s wearing a tight black skirt and a white blouse. Her hair is curled, and her makeup is dark but not overwhelming. She leans against the counter on a pair of skates. She smiles at him, poking at his side.

“Hey. You going to get skates?”

“Yeah, hang on. Be back,” Newt says, feeling silly for not getting them already. Minho jogs over.

“You tell Winston that you get twenty-five percent off,” Minho tells hurriedly with a thumbs up. Newt nods.

“Thanks! Hang on,” Newt thanks appreciatively. He walks over to get his skates, Winston shaking his head amusedly as he hands over the marked-down skates. He jogs back to Teresa, finding another girl standing next to her. She has dark brown hair, a few inches shorter than Teresa, and she was wearing a pair of jeans, a Bon Jovi shirt, and black converse. He says hi to her when he gets there. Teresa perks up.

“This is my friend Rachel. She’s in my psychology class. She’s going into physical therapy. Rachel, this is Newt,” Teresa introduces enthusiastically with her hand on Rachel’s upper-back. Rachel blushes, eyes glancing at Newt. Her shyness was cute, and Newt would could see himself developing a crush on the girl, if it weren’t for a certain brunet with moles on his face and neck. The thought of Thomas has him wanting to talk about him with Teresa or Minho. Maybe he’ll talk to them after they skate.

“Hey,” Rachel says with a tiny wave with a high voice. Newt looks down at her skates, noticing that they’re customized. She must skate a lot.

“Hey, you two want to go?” Newt asks.

“Yeah!” Teresa answers, Rachel nodding beside her excitedly. She takes one last sip of her drink before calling Minho over. Instead of a kiss though, she intertwines their fingers, a smile obviously only meant for Minho plays on her lips. Minho smiles back at her and with a wink he releases her hand. She then takes Newt’s and Rachel’s hands, and they work to keep up with her on their way to the rink. The song Animals start up as they take their first steps on the rink. Newt shamelessly puts his hand on Rachel’s shoulder, not have skated in awhile. She helps him happily, holding his wrist as he takes him into a small circle with Teresa following. Teresa gives Newt a suggestive look, who rolls his eyes.

The aroma of sweat and food gets worse as the time goes by, but Newt ignores it. He has to squint when he looks at the two girls, the lights unbearable at certain angles. They talk about professors, their jobs, and their hobbies. Proving Newt’s theory, Rachel has been on a roller derby team for the past two years. It was nothing major – mostly for fun – and Rachel tells them to come and watch a game one day. Wanting to see the quiet girl skating and pushing through her way on a rink, Newt promises to go.

Teresa and Minho do nearly everything together, Newt finds out. They hike trails, go to concerts, go on roadtrips, do improv classes, and they go paintballing with Teresa’s brother, Alec. They remind Newt of those couples who always post pictures of their adventures and make him never want to go on facebook. Only they were actually cute and aren’t open about everything. For example, neither of them were a fan of public display of affection. It explains why they rarely hold hands or kiss, and how they always sit in the back of classrooms.

Teresa talking about their relationship makes Newt wonder what a relationship would be like with Thomas. Would they do everything together, or would they do their own thing?

Memories of meeting Thomas and seeing his smile makes him smile as he skates with Teresa and Rachel. The adorable way Thomas looked earlier when they sat and talked on their couch enters his head, and he grows slightly dizzy.

His stomach flips, and he works to get his balance back when the memory of Thomas yelling at him flashes in his head. The mystery that surrounds Thomas’s whole being grows every day, and he can’t help but wish he was with him.

The other side of him yells at him to get away, that this was exactly what he told himself only two months ago that he wouldn’t let himself get into. He had learned from Alby. He needs to focus on his life and not another’s. He should go to the office and apply for another roommate. Thomas was a small virus, and if he lets him, he can contaminate his whole life.

As if fate was listening, his phone goes off. Newt pulls his phone out, not looking at the number, and answers with a ‘hello?’

He thinks someone called on accident with how he doesn’t hear anything, but then he hears a quiet sniffle and a weak cry. He gestures to his phone, silently telling Teresa and Rachel to give him a minute, and he skates to the edge to focus better. He looks at his phone, and his heart skips a beat when he sees ‘Thomas’. The time says nine-thirty o’clock. He clutches his phone in worry. “Thomas? Are you okay?”

It’s quiet again except for a shuffling noise. Newt winces at a harsh sound, one similar to the scratching on a microphone. He grows nauseous with worry and irritation.

“Newt?”

The voice is frail and broken, and Newt sucks in a breath. “Thomas? What is it?”

“I…I need you to come get me. I don’t know why I’m here. I-I don’t know where I am,” Thomas cries, and Newt hears him whimper into the phone. He skates to an entrance, and he sits down. His fingers shake as he pulls on his shoelaces.

“I need you to calm down for me, okay? Where are you? I’ll come get you,” Newt soothes with a tone harsh enough to make Thomas listen to him. He takes the phone away from his ear when something beats against the speaker. “Thomas, where are you?”

He hears shifting until a thumping noise hits his ear. “I’m…I’m at a park. I’m on a bench..I-uh-When will you get here?”

“Which park, Tommy?” Newt asks impatiently. “I’ll be there sooner if you relax and tell me where you are.”

“It’s just a few miles away from the school…I really need you get here. Please, Newt,” Thomas pleads and by the sound, Newt can tell he’s clutching the phone. He shushes the frantic brunet. He stands up after putting on his regular shoes and heads for the door.

“Newt?”

Newt turns around to find Rachel standing there looking at him with worry and confusion. Teresa walks up beside her. “Where are you going?”

“It’s an emergency. I’m really sorry, but I gotta go,” Newt quickly apologizes, turning back around and walking faster. He brings the phone back to his ear. “Tommy, you still there?”

His pace accelerates when he doesn’t get a response. He gets into his car when Thomas finally says something.

“Y-yes, I…It’s really cold,” Thomas whimpers, voice cracking at the end. Newt can hear Thomas’s teeth chattering. Newt tries to remember what he had been wearing when he ran out of the dorm.  
“Do you have a jacket?” Newt asks. Tomorrow he’ll laugh at himself for sounding so much like a worried mother.

“I-I I don’t have any clothes.”

The words hit Newt like a truck, and he pulls onto the road. He slams his foot on the accelerator, not caring for the speed limit. “Whatever you do, don’t hang up. I’ll be there soon. Stay with me.”

He’s only able to pull a few more words from Thomas as he drives to the dorm to grab some clothes and a blanket. His chest begins to ache, and it burns to breathe. He flies down the street, urging Thomas to keep talking. He pulls into the parking lot, barely remembering to turn the car off when he gets out. He looks frantically around the park, spotting every bench. He fights to see through the dark, thankful for the remaining streetlights. His heartbeat skyrockets when he doesn’t see Thomas.

His stomach flips when another streetlight flickers on, and he sees a shadow underneath a wooden bench. He’s running before he realizes it, throat burning even more. Thomas’s name slips through his lips in a montage.

Thomas was in curled in a ball, his arms wrapped around his legs. His whole body is shivering, and his skin is pale and blue. Newt quickly puts his phone in his pocket, and his hands shake as he throws the blanket around Thomas’s shaking form, and he pulls Thomas to him. Thomas starts to shake harder, and Newt works to get him up on his feet so his bare skin isn’t touching the snow anymore. He nearly slips from Thomas leaning his weight on him. He moves them so he can lean on the bench.

“Put your hand on me and put these on,” Newt orders, taking Thomas’s hand and placing it on his own shoulder. Thankfully, Thomas cooperates. He brings each leg up for Newt to slide the clothing on him. He blanches when he notices thin, long scratches on Thomas’s upper thighs. They remind him of cat scratches, but a sickening feeling rolls in telling him that’s not the case. The lines are horizontal and are placed right on top of each other. The only good thing was that they look pretty old.

“Fuck, Thomas,” Newt curses. He pulls the waistband up to Thomas’s hips, tying the strings together securely. He looks up when he hears his name being whispered, and Thomas is staring at him with teary, shameful eyes. Newt then finds himself being pulled to the brunet’s chest, arms wrapping tight around his abdomen. He flinches with a hiss when the frigid skin touches his own, and he reaches blindly for the edge of the blanket to wrap it tighter around Thomas.

He jolts when Thomas’s nose makes contact with his nose, and he grasps his brown hair. He peers down and thanks God when he sees shoes on the poor boy’s feet. Knowing he has to get Thomas warm, he calculates the walk from there to his car. He picks up Thomas’s phone and drops it in his pocket.

He takes a deep breath before bringing his arm down under Thomas’s legs. With a huff, he picks the male up, cradling him to his chest. Thomas has a bigger build than him, but he has upper body strength to help. Thomas doesn’t move a muscle, which he’s grateful for. When he gets to his car, he helps Thomas back onto his feet so he can open the backdoor. He helps Thomas get situated, and then he reaches to the wheel to turn on the engine. He switches the heat on to its fullest. He squeezes his body between the back of the passenger’s seat and the backseat.

He takes off his jacket and lays it on the blanket. Thomas takes it gratefully. Newt moves Thomas’s messy hair out of his eyes, and he cups his icy face. Thomas says nothing, only leaning into Newt’s hands.

A swarm of questions swim in Newt’s head. Why was Thomas almost naked? Why was he in the park? Why did he let himself get this cold? Where has he been? Was he with someone? Why did he cut himself? Is he still depressed? Is he suicidal? 

So many questions, but he can’t get himself to ask them. Those questions will have to be reserved for later. He bravely rubs his thumb along Thomas’s cheekbones. He’s overwhelmed with need to take care of Thomas. 

“Should I call your step-dad?” Thomas fervently shakes his head. Newt halts when Thomas suddenly grabs his wrist. He’s taken back by the amount of desperation in Thomas’s eyes.

“Please don’t. He thinks I’m doing good. He thinks I’m doing good..I can’t disappoint him, Newt,” Thomas weeps. “He’ll just be worried.”

“He should be worried, Thomas,” Newt argues, though he knows he won’t do what Thomas doesn’t want. He knows he should, but right now he wants to be there for Thomas. He wants Thomas to know he’s there.

Thomas’s eyes go distant, and he looks like he’s another world. It reminds him of Thomas’s expression when he had been sitting with him as he drew and when they were watching TV. He loses his breath when Thomas suddenly brings his hand to his chest. His hold is hard, but Newt lets it happen. Especially when he sees Thomas look at him with a deep inhale. His features soften, and it looks strange in the situation they’re in.

“I have homework to do.”

A choked laugh makes its way out of Newt, the statement silly after everything. How Thomas can think of homework at a time like this?

Though when he looks at Thomas, his expression is hard again as he looks to his right out the window. He curls his fingers up to soothingly run his fingertip along Thomas’s jaw. Thomas’s skin is so soft, and he remembers the cuts on his thighs. 

His mum has always told him to never keep that quiet. She’s always told him to tell someone immediately after finding out a friend is cutting. He wishes she was here, so she can tell him what to do, tell him what’s wrong with Thomas. It’s frustrating to see Thomas look so helpless, and all he wants to do is wrap blankets around the brunet in hopes to keep him from danger. 

Seeing as the brunet is asleep, he takes out Thomas’s phone. He scrolls through his contacts to find ‘Janson’. His thumb hangs above the call button. He yells at himself to push it. Thomas’s step-dad needs to know about this. He needs to know what happened. 

He remembers Thomas saying Janson is a doctor. Deciding not to call, he tosses the phone to the floorboard. This week or the next he’ll go see Janson, tell him what happened. Right now he just wants to make sure Thomas is okay. 

Getting out of the car, he gets into the driver’s seat. With one last look at the backseat, he starts the car and drives.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Newt and Thomas grow closer. Newt learns some more about Thomas. More differences that need to be noticed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow..it's been forever since I updated!! I'm so glad I was able to now :) Hopefully I can update again soon. I've been so busy with college, work, and trying to keep a social life. I hope you guys like this chapter :) Hope things are getting clear.  
> Please comment your thoughts and possibly do kudos !

Newt’s breath hitches, nearly dropping the cup of fizzy water in his hand. He shakes his head, demanding the sleep away as he makes his way to the sleepy boy huddled in his bed. He sees the familiar face placed on a fluffy pillow – a sight that Newt shamefully stole pictures of during the week. Like so many times before, he runs his fingers through Thomas’s damp bangs to stir him awake. Sparkling light brown eyes meet his, and Newt watches as Thomas works to sit up to drink the water.

If he were to describe Thomas with only one word, he would use one that fit between exhausted and dead. From the bags under his eyes to his clammy skin, his whole body screamed of sickness. A sickness that displayed on the outside and was rooted deep inside him. Newt doesn’t know how to start to fix the inside, but he sure knows what to do with the cold the brunet had caught. 

The last few days have been going like a rollercoaster. He skipped math class the first day in order to take care of Thomas, who had greeted him awake with a disgusting, wet cough. Skipping math class led to skipping English too, because how was he supposed to leave Thomas alone to take care of himself, when he obviously needs help? Thomas even asked him to call his work for him to tell them he won’t be able to make it. He also downright didn’t want to leave Thomas alone.

The days pass with Newt constantly checking on the boy’s wellbeing, feeding him soup or tea, making sure he’s supplied with water, cleaning out the mini trashcan that stood beside Thomas’s bed, and entertaining him. His backside and back are both sore from continuously staying with his back against Thomas’s bed. Wrappers and water bottles litter the floor, and his photo albums lay scattered around. 

_“You’ve been to the Grand Canyon?” Thomas gruffs out, clearing his throat before speaking. Newt hums, angling his body so Thomas can see the page of pictures better from where he lays on his side behind the blond. The soft, messy hair on Thomas’s head tickles Newt’s arms, and goosebumps form in his skin._

_“Yeah, my parents took us there during the winter. Of course the temperature during the winter there gets to around sixty degrees, so it was beautiful weather,” Newt explains, smiling fondly at the images of his sister. He tenses at the feeling of Thomas’s hot breath lightly hitting his upper arm. He should tell him to move away to keep from getting sick himself, but something tells him not to. Besides, a bit of his breath fanning him is nothing compared to the many times Thomas has asked him to lay or sit with him._

_He turns the page and grins at the sight of Sonya standing near the edge. The area around her hair is blurry from the sunlight and the wind making it wave freely. The pebble squished between her dainty fingers almost has a laugh escaping through his lips. Though, Thomas catches his shoulders shaking from amusement. He hears and feels Thomas slithering closer. His arm tingles in anticipation of the possible feeling of Thomas’s chin gently placed upon it, but unfortunately that doesn’t happen._

_“What is it?” Thomas croaks near his ear. Newt clears his throat, the sides of his lips turning up._

_“Sonya thought it was a great idea to throw a rock over the edge. It’s a hidden rule that you’re not supposed to do that, but everyone does including me. Bad thing is, when she threw it, there was someone walking right where she aimed it,” Newt smirks, laughter finally forcing its way out._

_Thomas splutters in coughs and laughs, and this time Newt moves out of the way. He laughs himself, bringing his head back against the bed. Thomas works for breath for minutes, laughing uncontrollably as he does._

_“That’s terrible! Who did she hit?” Thomas makes out in chokes, Newt nearly not hearing what he says. Newt chuckles, turning a page._

_“Her future fiancé,” Newt teases, tilting the book for Thomas to see Sonya and Aris standing together. Sonya’s red face and Aris’s fake angry expression has him laughing again. He awkwardly stops when he hears silence after an audible gasp behind him. He turns his head to see what caused Thomas to lose his breath, and he sees Thomas’s pale face, paler than it’s been during this sickness. His jaw is clenched and eyes hard. He follows Thomas’s eyes and notices he’s staring at Aris. It looks as if he was seeing a ghost instead._

_“Thomas-“_

_“I’m going to take a nap,” Thomas interrupts, turning his back towards him crudely. Newt’s jaw drops in surprise, straightening up to the spontaneous turn of events. His voice has escaped him though, and he quietly places his album down and stands up, leaving the room to go see Minho and Teresa. ___

__Newt presses his palm to Thomas’s forehead. “It may not look it, but I think you’re recovering Thomas.”_ _

__Thomas coughs as he places his now empty cup on his bedside table. Newt’s eyebrows shoot up when Thomas suddenly moves to stand up. He automatically goes to push Thomas back onto the bed._ _

__“What are you doing? Lay back down,” Newt orders, putting his palms on Thomas’s chest to begin pushing him to sit down._ _

__Thomas huffs. “I can’t be in this bed any longer, Newt. It’s boring. I want to go out, okay?” Thomas pleads with a pout. Newt rolls his eyes, and this time Thomas sits down when he pushes lightly._ _

__Newt opens the nightstand’s drawer and takes out a stack of paper. He plops them on the bed beside Thomas with a stern look. “If you’re so bored, then do your homework. I’m not letting you get sick again, Tommy. If you don’t think _I’m_ not sick of this room, then you’ve gone mad.” _ _

__Thomas has a disappointed expression on his face throughout the mini speech until the last part. Then a tiny smile sprawls on his lips. Oddly enough, Newt found Thomas looking insanely attractive. Somehow the smile makes the baggy eyes, pale face, and cracked lips look delectable._ _

__“Maybe I want to risk getting sick again. I quite like you taking care of me.”_ _

__Newt is at a loss for words, and his face is beet red as he processes the words. Thomas saying cheeky things comes at random times. It’s as if every day he woke up to a different person, his personality changing like clockwork. He acts like this a few days, shy yet independent another few days, and then want nothing to do with Newt – that only happened once. That happened two days ago. Newt had done his routine of making Thomas breakfast, when Thomas suddenly barked at him to leave. Newt came back around eight that night, and Thomas stayed quiet until the next day. Then he was back to his normal quiet self._ _

__It also feels as if he never found Thomas in that park. That he never found Thomas without clothing with cuts on his body._ _

__Did Thomas forget? Should he say something? He only had one shot to talk about it with Thomas, but it didn’t happen._ _

__The numerous amount of phone calls and texts on Thomas’s phone from his father eggs him to say something to him. Janson was his step-dad, and he clearly cared about him. He should know._ _

_A high-pitched bell rings in the room, and a groan falls after it. Newt chuckles at Thomas, who was now hiding underneath the blanket. He picks up the laptop from his lap and places it beside him. He grabs for Thomas’s phone. He looks down in time to find Thomas peeking up at him from under the blanket._

_“It’s Janson again,” Newt informs the boy hiding next to him. Thomas sighs, straightening up against the bedframe. He crosses his arms against his chest, eyeing Newt carefully. Newt can’t keep from reaching out and checking Thomas’s temperature once he notices how red the brunet’s face is. Thomas doesn’t flinch, rather starts to mindlessly scratch at his scalp._

_Thomas is quiet, side-glancing at the phone in Newt’s hand. Newt watches Thomas’s face, trying desperately to read his features. He’s slightly gotten used to the many faces of Thomas Greene, but this one is challenging. He can’t find a single ounce of emotion, something similar to void._

_Newt prepares to have a conversation about the other night in the park, practically hearing the words right from out of Thomas’s lips._

_“Can you text him I’m on a soccer trip?”_

_“Thomas…”_

_“Please?” The word is fragile, whisking in the air like glass. Thomas is staring at him now, and Newt sees a glimpse of liquid forming in Thomas’s eyes. He was about to argue, tell Thomas that Janson has the right to know. Not only that, but because Thomas should ask for help if he needs it._

_What comes out is not what he expects. “Okay.”_

__“How about this,” Newt says strategically, nearly laughing once he sees Thomas pout. “You spend two more days in here. Go to class, but that’s it. You have to come back in here right after. Gally can hang out, I don’t care, but please don’t do anything else. _I am_ the one who takes care of you,” Newt proposes carefully. _ _

__Thomas’s bottom lip is out, and he swings his hips slightly as he thinks. He peeks around the room. “Are you going to be here?”_ _

__“I have school and soon work too. Sonya also wants to see me. I have been stuck in here for nearly a week,” Newt remarks with a laugh. Thomas bites his lip but soon shrugs._ _

__“Fine, I’ll invite Gally over,” Thomas sighs before taking a seat on his bed. “When’s your first day at work?”_ _

__“Day after tomorrow actually,” Newt answers, taking a look at his schedule again. “Twelve to five.” His stomach flutters when Thomas looks disappointed. He watches as the brunet scratches at the top of his head again, and the way his face scrunches up._ _

__Thomas suddenly relaxes, looking at Newt with a sincere smile. “Thank you for watching over me while I’m sick.”_ _

__Unable to control it, Newt smiles back. He walks over to the mini fridge and pulls out a slice of pizza. “No problem at all, Tommy.”_ _

__“Tommy?”_ _

__Newt stills, face reddening as he feels Thomas’s eyes on him. He slowly stands straight with pizza in hand. He turns his head to find that Thomas’s smile has switched to a toothy grin. Newt drums his fingers tensely while Thomas walks over to him. Newt keeps himself busy with looking for a paper plate, ignoring how close Thomas is leaning against the counter. He finally meets Thomas’s eyes when he hears him hum._ _

__Thomas’s eyes are both gentle and amused, and he lets out a few coughs. “You called me that the first day we met.”_ _

__“You didn’t seem to like it,” Newt remarks carefully, taking a bite of his pizza. He decides not to bring up the way Gally called him Dylan._ _

__Thomas falters at the comment but then shrugs. “I like it now.”_ _

__Newt mocks the shrug. “I guess I’m going to call you Tommy now.”_ _

__Thomas purses his lips, his nails going back to scratching at his hair. “Sometimes I might not be in the mood.”_ _

__Newt raises an eyebrow in curiosity, confused by the statement. With anyone else, it would be a normal thing to say. Hearing it from Thomas though, it could mean something else. “What do you mean?”_ _

__Thomas looks away, biting his lip. Newt goes to ask something else, but then Thomas breaks out in a rough cough, and he quickly grabs a water bottle out of the fridge. Thomas takes it gratefully, though he recovers from the cough rather quickly. Newt decides to ignore it._ _

__When Thomas stops coughing, it’s as if the atmosphere changed immediately by the way Thomas grows silent and goes back to his bed. Tension lathers the room like a blanket, and Newt continues to eat._ _

__**_ _

__“Naked with cuts? On his thighs?”  
“Yeah,” Newt answers. He jumps slightly at the whooping sound of arrow hitting wooden board. The sweet smell of the outdoors surrounds his nose. It reminds him of the woods. “It was terrifying.” _ _

__Dropping her bow to her side, Sonya gives him a look. “I don’t know why you haven’t told anyone, especially his dad. You said he called.”_ _

__“I’m going to see him this week. I was taking care of Thomas,” Newt excuses pathetically. Sonya huffs, picking up another arrow from the small pile on the snow-covered ground. The air is still with only a bit of wind. She brings back the arrow, ready to strike._ _

__“Have you been talking to Alby?” Sonya asks before letting the arrow go. Newt rolls his eyes._ _

__“Why do you keep asking me that?”_ _

__“I have no idea,” Sonya sasses with a grin. She picks up another arrow._ _

__Newt rolls his eyes dramatically. “He keeps texting me, but I haven’t been responding.”_ _

__“At least you got rid of that mess,” Sonya snides. She lets go of the arrow and smiles when she hits her target._ _

__“Alby wasn’t that bad-“_ _

__“Then what happened to your leg?” Sonya disrupts with detectable anger, daring him to say something else to defend Alby._ _

__Newt looks away from her glare, knowing he messed up. He watches silently as Sonya makes two more arrows hit her target. He looks down stubbornly at his leg, remembering that bad night that caused his permanent limp. No one has asked about it, and he hopes it’s because he’s been hiding it well._ _

__“I don’t want to fight, okay? I just want you safe and not getting yourself into trouble,” Sonya says, gaining Newt’s attention back. She walks over to him with sympathy swimming in her eyes. Snow crunches underneath her boots. “I’m your older sister. I’m supposed to take care of you.”_ _

__Newt nods understandingly, perfectly knowing that her protectiveness makes sense. “I know you are, and I appreciate it. This time is different, Sonya. I know what I’m doing.”_ _

__He can tell that she has so much to say, but he’s grateful when she doesn’t add anything. She instead walks away to go back to her activity. “Are you excited for your first day at work?”_ _

__Newt pulls out his phone to look at the time. “Pretty excited. I start in an hour, so I better start walking over there. You should call Aris.” Sonya laughs._ _

__“Yeah, ‘cause I definitely see a kidnapper seeing me here with a bow and arrow and think ‘I choose her to attack’,” Sonya taunts with a wink. Newt waves her off._ _

__“Whatever. Only looking out for your sorry arse,” Newt retorts with a laugh. “See you later.”_ _

__“Love you.”_ _

__“Love you too.”_ _

__**_ _

__Newt opens his dorm door not expecting what he’s going to find. He’s hit with the rich smell of meat, and the sound of something sizzling. He closes the door to see Thomas shirtless with a pair of shorts, standing in front of the counter as he flips a patty on a small grill. Thomas smiles at Newt._ _

__“Hey! How was your first day?”_ _

__Newt returns the smile, placing his bag on his bed. “It was good. Just watched this guy, Zart, take orders. I also restocked stuff. Nothing exciting. What have you been up to?”_ _

__“Gally and I played games in the lounge for awhile, and then I watched movies on Netflix,” Thomas tells him as he fixes his burger. He takes a seat on the couch, and Newt follows after him. “Can’t wait to go back to work tomorrow. It feels like it’s been forever.”_ _

__Newt nods in understanding as he watches Thomas skim through the channels. A show catches his eye. “The 100 is really good I heard.”_ _

__“Haven’t seen it. Is it on Netflix? We can watch it on there,” Thomas suggests with interest._ _

__“Yeah, it’s on there. I’ll try not to spoil anything,” Newt teases. Thomas laughs, switching the TV to Netflix and looking for the designated show. He clicks on the first episode. Newt can’t hold back the grin, the feel of watching the show for the first time hits him. He settles into the couch comfortably, inconspicuously moving from the corner of the couch. Thomas doesn’t notice._ _

__Instead of watching the show though, Newt ends up watching Thomas. He tries to not be obvious, but he loses track on how long he’s been staring. He watches as intrigue elevates on Thomas’s face the more into the show he gets, and he has his fingers in his messy hair. An empty plate now sits on the arm of the couch, and Thomas is not seated so close to the corner as he was before. Newt itches to move closer, figuring it’s because they’ve been sitting so close the past few days._ _

__“You look better,” Newt comments, catching Thomas by surprise. Thomas’s face reddens, and his eyes flicker from the screen to Newt._ _

__“Thanks.” The word comes out as a whisper, and Newt barely hears him. He surprises himself when he reaches out and worms his fingers under Thomas’s bangs, flattening his palm against his forehead. Thomas’s eyes widen, but he keeps still. Newt feels his eyes on him, and he keeps his eyes on Thomas’s hair. He carefully removes his hand, and he thinks he imagines Thomas following his hand._ _

__“No fever,” Newt tells him, though his voice comes out in a stutter. Thomas purses his lips and the corners of them rise up, and he settles into the couch. Newt takes notice on how relaxed Thomas looks compared to the last time they sat here._ _

__Newt watches the show some more, until he catches sight on a notepad on the small table. “Have you been drawing?”_ _

__“Yeah. People mostly. I’ve been drawing what I see outside,” Thomas explains easily._ _

__Newt straightens up and points to the pad. “Can I see what you’ve been drawing?” Newt asks gingerly, not wanting Thomas to go back to feeling uncomfortable._ _

__Thomas surprises him with standing up and going to pick up his notepad and bringing it over. Newt is taken back by how close Thomas is sitting now. Their shoulders touch as Thomas flips through the pages quickly. Once he finds the page, Thomas angles the pad to show Newt._ _

__Newt looks down and his jaw drops at the sight. It was a well-detailed drawing of the setting outside their dorm. The trees are drawn in the right places, their shadows reaching away from what’s left of the sun. Tiny specks are scattered around to show that it’s snowing, and Newt gawks at the way the snow looks placed on the limbs of the trees.  
There is a boy and girl walking on the sidewalk, and Newt enjoys the great details. “This is really good, Thomas. I could take a picture, and it’d look like the exact replica.” _ _

__Thomas blushes at that, shrugging the compliment away. “I guess. It’s not as good as usual. I didn’t feel well enough to draw their hair, small things I actually like doing.”_ _

__Newt playfully nudges his shoulder. “Don’t be like that. This looks amazing. I can only draw houses if I really try, and even then it’s only a triangle on top of a square.” Thomas chuckles, taking back the notepad and putting it beside him._ _

__“I’m sure it looks great,” Thomas amuses weakly, and Newt rolls his eyes. He takes a second to look back at the TV and sees it’s when Octavia is about to jump in the lake. He looks at Thomas to find him staring at the screen. He furrows his eyebrows, but decides to tease to hide his annoyance._ _

__“You think she’s pretty, Tommy?” Newt asks, forcing himself to sound taunting instead of weary._ _

__Thomas focuses on the screen in fake thought, and Newt keeps from laughing. Then, Thomas grins down at him._ _

__“Not as pretty as you.”_ _

__Newt’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise, taken back by the answer. Thomas breaks the eye contact, now looking at the screen instead. His face is red though, and Newt was speechless. Thomas plays with a loose fabric of the couch._ _

__Choosing to not to respond to that, he stands up and goes over to his bed. Thomas watches him as he sits back down with his camera in hand. Newt’s heart skips a beat when the first few pictures to pop up on the screen was the ones he took of Thomas. The pictures were of the other male sleeping peacefully in his bed. Thomas is quiet beside him, so he must not have seen anything. He bravely scoots closer to Thomas, and he angles the camera’s screen for Thomas to see once he finds a particular picture._ _

__“I actually took a picture of outside the other day. Looks the exact same,” Newt compliments. Thomas grabs his notepad to compare. He gives Newt a small grin._ _

__“It does. You took a beautiful picture, Newt. All your pictures are neat,” Thomas shyly claims. Newt smiles appreciatively._ _

__“Thanks, Tommy,” Newt tells him before putting his camera on the small table. “What do you usually like to draw?”_ _

__“Outside mostly. Other times people,” Thomas replies honestly, flipping through his drawings. Newt is only able to glimpse at some. “I like using watercolors when I draw people though.” That catches Newt’s attention._ _

__“At home do you use watercolors?”_ _

__“I have a place.” Newt leaves it at that._ _

__Newt moves a little ways away to give Thomas privacy with his drawings, content with the idea of warming up to Thomas enough for the brunet to show him his drawings at a later time._ _

__All of a sudden growing bored with the show, he exits it to look through some others. He comes across another show. “Have you seen Once Upon a Time?”_ _

__“I love that show,” Thomas exclaims, tossing his notepad to the floor._ _

__“Who’s your favorite character?” Newt asks after putting a random episode in season two._ _

__“Either Hook or Madhatter,” Thomas answers quickly as if it was the easiest question. Newt chuckles._ _

__“I like Emma and Regina,” Newt says in response. He smirks at the brunet. “You know, Halloween is coming up.”_ _

__“Very funny,” Thomas laughs. “If I were to pick one though, I’d go as Madhatter. Way too many people dress up as pirates.”_ _

__“That’s true,” Newt admits. He nudges Thomas’s side. “My sister can do your makeup.”_ _

__Thomas scoffs. “We’ll see about this ‘makeup’,” he teases. Newt shrugs, looking back at the screen to see Hook and Emma arguing._ _

__“I bet you’d look good with makeup,” Newt says with a low voice, looking up to see Thomas’s eyes widen and face go red. “Shit, sorry that was weird. Shit-“_ _

__“It’s okay,” Thomas laughs. His fingers go back in his hair. “Thanks.”_ _

__Newt smiles, begging himself to stop blushing. He distracts himself with the show, though he can’t pay attention to any of it. He gets sidetracked with every move Thomas makes and every breath he takes. He thinks he sees Thomas looking at him in the corner of his eye, but he doesn’t ever check. He’d much rather imagine it, instead of finding out that he was wrong._ _

__They have small conversations throughout the episodes, talking about various things. The subjects being more personal than the ones before. This includes the usual likes and dislikes, favorite activities, past friendships, and etc. Thomas even invites him to a soccer game next week, and Newt invites Thomas to come visit him at work. They also have gotten to the point where their knees and shoulders touch, and Newt is proud to see how comfortable Thomas looks._ _

__They also make plans for a game. A game that consists of them going to a location. Newt would take a picture of the setting, and then Thomas will draw it. Newt buzzes with excitement, especially with the fact that Thomas blushed as he suggested it._ _

__“I can’t wait,” Newt tells him sincerely, causing Thomas to smile wider._ _

__“Me neither.”_ _

__“Don’t you have a game to get to?” Newt asks, now noticing the time. They’ve been talking for three hours now. He hasn’t realized._ _

__Thomas takes a look at the clock, and then he shoots off the couch and dashes to his drawers. “Crap! I didn’t realize how late it got. I’m going to be late.”_ _

__Newt gets off the couch too, going over and placing items in Thomas’s soccer bag to help. “You’re fine. The game is just down the street.”_ _

__Thomas catches himself, when he trips himself as he puts his cleats on. Newt covers his mouth to hide his laugh. He looks away when Thomas starts to change. He throws a pair of socks blindly at him. He hears a quiet ‘thank you’. He turns back around when Thomas reaches past him to get his bag. He follows the brunet to the door. He freezes when Thomas halts to look at him._ _

__“Are you going to come?”_ _

__Newt bites his lip, irritated with having to disappoint him. “I’m sorry, but I can’t. I have that English essay to finish. I wish I could go.”_ _

__He sees a flicker of hurt in Thomas’s eyes, but it disappears in seconds. “It’s fine. Next one, yeah?”_ _

__“Yes,” Newt assures. He then puts his hands on Thomas’s shoulders to do a small shove. “Now, you have to go before you’re really late.”_ _

__“Right!” Thomas remembers, and he turns around and opens the door. He gasps when he almost runs into someone. Newt looks over his shoulder to see who’s there._ _

__“Aris?”_ _

__The short brunet stands there with wide, stunned eyes as if he was looking at a ghost. Thomas stands there awkwardly with eyes wide with shock, not knowing what to say or do._ _

__“Thomas?” Aris asks weakly, eyes turning sympathetic. Thomas is taken back, and Newt is shocked himself when he sees Thomas turn defensive._ _

__“How do you know my name?”_ _

__Newt watches as Aris’s sorrow expression switches to confusion, almost looking offended by the question. He glances at Newt, who stays quiet._ _

__“Um, sorry, but I have to get going,” Thomas excuses himself, getting around Aris quickly. He waves at Newt before disappearing down the hall. Aris watches after him, until Newt gets his attention._ _

__“What was that about?” Newt accuses, pointing inside the dorm so Aris comes in. The shorter male looks shaken as he dazedly looks around the room. “Aris?”_ _

__“I…I don’t know where to start,” Aris chokes out, his hands fidgeting at his sides. Newt crosses his arms as he watches Aris pace around the room._ _

__“Better get started soon because you’re freaking me out, mate,” Newt tells him. Aris only nods, going over to the fridge to get a water bottle with shaking hands._ _

__“Sorry, I don’t mean to act so out of it, but you can’t blame me, trust me,” Aris defends with fake laughter. “I was suspicious at first, when you said that your roommate, Thomas, was maybe lying about his name. I never thought it’d be the same guy though, not in a million years. I haven’t seen him in forever.”_ _

__“Thomas?” Newt asks as he steps closer. “You _know_ him?” _ _

__“Back when I lived in Arizona, Thomas and I were friends. We didn’t hang out much, but we did have a few classes together and had lunch together,” Aris explains slowly, seeming to choose each word carefully. Newt listens to every detail with speculation._ _

__“I can’t believe…” Aris whispers, sinking down on the couch. Newt sits down beside him. He wants to yell at Aris. He wants to Aris to get on with it, and tell him what he knows about Thomas._ _

__“How do you know him, but he doesn’t know you?” Newt asks urgently. Aris bites his lip, scratching at his hair._ _

__Aris is quiet for awhile, driving Newt up the wall. Newt tries to stay quiet and be patient, but he can’t help from asking again. Aris looks up at that, looking at Newt with worry written all over his face. The sight scares Newt. What happened between Aris and Thomas to lead to this? How does Thomas not know him? Does Aris know what’s wrong with Thomas?_ _

__Finally, Aris speaks. “Are you sure you want to know? It’ll be overwhelming, and I don’t know how you’ll take it, since you’re his roommate. I don’t know how much it’s progressed, or if he’s learned how to deal with it. I didn’t know how to take it-crap. Hang on.” Aris digs into his pocket for his ringing phone. Newt buzzes in anxiety as he waits for Aris’s attention again._ _

__“Gally?” Aris gasps, standing up with a jolt. Newt jumps up too. Aris clutches his phone as he listens. His eyes meet Newt’s._ _

__“You don’t know where Thomas is?”_ _

__Shit._ _

__**_ _

__Newt grabs for the door when Aris slams on the brake. He jumps out of the car once it stops, and Sonya and Aris get out too. Newt almost slips on the rocks as he runs to the stadium. He looks at the time on his phone in his shaky hand._ _

__“No one has seen Thomas in forty minutes,” Newt declares worriedly, wanting to scream._ _

__“We’ll find him, okay?” Aris assures him. The three of them make it to the stadium and look around. Newt spots Gally talking to the soccer team. “Anyone see him?”_ _

__“No,” Sonya answers. “Did Minho and Teresa find him yet?”_ _

__Newt shakes his head after looking at his text messages. “No. Minho is looking in the locker room, and Teresa is checking the bathrooms.” He fights to keep his breathing even, eyes flickering all over the crowds of people, searching for that one face. “Wh-where is he? Do you think he’s okay?”_ _

__“I don’t know,” Aris answers shamefully. Fear and uneasiness are painted on his face, and it makes Newt nauseous. “I have no idea where he might be. I don’t know the state that he’s in. I haven’t seen him in years,” Aris babbles fervently. He leads them both to behind the stands. “I promise I’ll find him. We’ll find him.”_ _

__“Fuck! We _need_ to, Aris!” Newt shouts in rage. His head is pounding, trying to make sense of everything. All he remembers is Thomas hurrying to the game. He should be here, but he’s not. He’s disappeared. _ _

__“Newt, calm down.”_ _

__Newt jumps at the feel of Sonya’s hands on his shoulders. Sonya is looking at him with wide, alerted eyes, and he can see that he’s worrying her. He nods in understanding, though his mind still is haywire. Mental images pop up in his head of Thomas stark naked in the snow with cuts on his thighs, and he feels that same sick feeling. His stomach rolls at the idea of Thomas being in that situation again. He doesn’t know what he’ll do if he finds Thomas like that again._ _

__“It’ll help if we split up,” Sonya reasons. “I’ll check the stadium again, Aris can check the school for any open doors or windows, and Newt can check around the area.”_ _

__Aris nods. “That’s a good idea. In an hour we’ll meet back up again.”_ _

__“Sounds good,” Newt says under his breath, taking a sharp turn right to head out back to the parking lot. He walks a mile around the field, looking in lots and shadows, but not finding anything. The longer he looks, the more desperate he gets. He feels himself sweating from the back of his neck to his lower back, and he’s never felt so anxious in his life.  
He needs to find Thomas. _ _

__He doesn’t realize he’s screaming the name until he starts to cough. His throat is massively dry, but he keeps calling the name out. He gets odd looks from people around, but he doesn’t care. Call him crazy. He doesn’t care._ _

__His mind grows frantic, and he pulls his phone out of his pocket. He dials Thomas’s number, realizing that he hasn’t tried calling him. He doubts he’ll answer, but he has no other choice._ _

__It rings repeatedly, and he tries calling two times before sighing. He sulks around a small field, until he gives in to call another time. This time his breath hitches when the ringing stops._ _

__“Thomas?” Newt says cautiously, hoping and praying that he’ll get an answer. His jaw drops when he hears breathing. “Thomas, are you there? Do you need help?”_ _

__“I-I..I can’t breathe.”_ _

__“Thomas?” Newt gasps, heart skipping a beat. He tightens his grip on his phone. He winces at the static noise._ _

__“He….come out-“_ _

__“Thomas, where are you?” Newt interrupts, looking around in hopes of seeing him. He grows dizzy from the different angles._ _

__“He didn’t come out! He’s going…so mad. I didn’t know how!”_ _

__“Thomas, what are you-where are you!” Newt barks, scaring himself. Thomas is quiet on the other line, and Newt can hear his own heart beat against his chest. He takes in a breath, urging himself to relax. “Please,” Newt starts again, altering his voice to sound not so demanding. “Please tell me where you are.”_ _

__It’s quiet again, and Newt squints when a gust of wind blows at his face. He wraps himself in his jacket to try to keep warm. It’s dark out now, and he wishes Thomas will hurry up in telling him where he is. He’s beyond worried._ _

__“That tree.” A tender voice sprouts in his ear, and he freezes. His mind goes on overdrive to remember what tree Thomas is talking about. “Do you know which one? Please tell me you do.”_ _

__Thomas’s voice breaks at the end, and he knows Thomas is crying. He taps his fingers on his upper leg in thought, and he was about to start screaming before a glimpse of a memory hits him. He sucks in a breath. He swerves around to look for his car._ _

__“I’ll be there in five minutes. Stay right there.”_ _

__**_ _

__Newt barely turns off the car before jumping out, almost slipping on the icy road. He swings around the car in a hurry, eyeing the tree in the distance. He hopes this is the tree Thomas is talking about. The tree where he had found Thomas drawing up against the second day. He had acted so odd, but it only made Newt more interested in the brunet.  
He blows a heavy sigh when he sees a figure against the same tree. He runs across the snow, eyes never leaving Thomas’s body. He’s even happier when he sees clothes on his body. Though he runs faster when he sees Thomas’s body formed in a ball and shaking. _ _

__He sits down and puts an arm around Thomas’s shoulders, realizing now that Thomas was crying. Thomas leans into his touch. “Thomas? What’s going on?”_ _

__Thomas is silent except for the sounds of crying and deep breathing, and Newt rubs his shoulders soothingly. It looks as if Thomas can’t breathe. He asks again._ _

__Thomas suddenly jumps on his feet as if he’s been shot. He gestures with his hands, mouth wide open as he sucks in air loudly. “I-I can’t breathe.”_ _

__Newt can feel his heart beating against his chest, and his stomach tosses as Thomas’s declaration swirls in his head. He stands up too. Not knowing what Thomas means by that, he looks over the troubled male in front of him. Physically, he looks fine, and he’s probably a good 90% recovered from his cold. Though, his mouth gapes like a fish as he sucks in air, his eyes are hazy, his back is fully straight, and he is leaning against the tree as if he could fall out in any minute._ _

__He tries to remember his mother’s work. He tries to remember all the conditions he read when he used to sneak into her office and read her books and files. He read a whole range of stuff including bipolar disorder, autism, eating disorders, schizophrenia, anxiety disorder-_ _

__Anxiety attack._ _

__“Thomas,” Newt says with a steady tone, and he slowly takes Thomas’s hand in his. He remembers reading about anxiety. He remembers all the key things to do when someone is having an attack. His mum was very clear with the instructions because apparently more and more people have anxiety. “Take a deep breath for me. Take a long, deep breath. _Breathe_ , you can do this,” Newt encourages, performing deep breaths of his own for Thomas to imitate. _ _

__He watches calmly as Thomas struggles to slow his breathing. Thomas’s eyes flicker around, meeting everything but Newt’s face. Newt risks taking a step closer._ _

__“Look at me, Thomas,” Newt softly orders. He hears Thomas’s breathing pick up. “Tommy, look at me. Please look at me.”_ _

__After several seconds, Thomas finally meets his gaze. Newt smiles at him and squeezes his hand lightly. “Do what I do, okay? Breathe deep and slow,” Newt instructs. He rounds his lips and slowly takes in a breath. He watches happily as Thomas copies what he does. His eyes are lidded, and his arms and jaw aren’t strained anymore. Thomas looks away a few times, but Newt squeezes his palm to tell him to look at him again. He does this for five minutes, until Thomas wasn’t so out of it._ _

__“You’re doing great, Thomas,” Newt coos, taking Thomas’s hand into both of his now. Thomas’s breathing is steady, and Newt tenses when suddenly Thomas has his arms around him._ _

__“He didn’t come out! He didn’t…he didn’t _come out_ , Newt. He’s going to be so mad at me!” Thomas wails into Newt’s chest. Newt is incredibly confused, but he continues to comfort the distressed male. He tries to put pieces together, but there are no pieces to work with. He has no idea what’s going on, or what Thomas is talking about. Who didn’t come out? Was he still having an attack?_ _

__“Who? Another player?” Newt tries. Newt moves his head when Thomas fervently shakes his head. Newt feels the shoulder of his shirt begin to wet. Fingers grab at his lower shirt, and the hand he’s holding tightens. He holds tightly to it._ _

__“He-he’s going to be so mad at me, Newt! He’s going to yell at me. I don’t know soccer…,” Thomas sobs into Newt’s neck. Newt feels him trembling, and he tries to help. He whispers calming words, rubs his arms, squeezes his hand, but none of it works. Of all the sides he’s seen of Thomas, he hasn’t seen this one yet. This one was fragile, anxious, scared, and really dependent. His head spins as he tries to register the boy he’s comforting, and he wants to know what Thomas means. What does he mean by not knowing soccer? He wishes Thomas will explain, but he only continues to cry and repeat the same words._ _

__He doesn’t know what to say, but he does know they shouldn’t be out here in the cold. He angles his body away, causing Thomas to look up at him. His heart breaks at the wetness of his eyes. His whole state screamed vulnerability, and Newt cups his cheek._ _

__“Let’s go to the dorm, yeah? Being out here is not helping,” Newt sweetly suggests, beginning to move his feet. Thomas says nothing, though he follows Newt. Newt leads them both to the dorm with Thomas leaning on him. Thomas is quiet as they walk, relying on Newt as they go. He has his arm around Thomas’s waist, and Thomas’s hand is around his upper back. He unlocks the door quickly, rubbing his thumb along Thomas’s back._ _

__He quietly tells Thomas to go lay down on the bed, when he finally gets the door open. He locks it shut before joining Thomas, who was now staring at the wall. He was playing with his fingernails absentmindedly._ _

__When Newt lays down on the bed, Thomas worms over and places his right cheek on the blond’s chest. He also brings a leg around Newt’s. Newt wraps his own arms around the brunet, shocked with how clingy Thomas is. He was clingy when he was sick, but this clinginess was different. This time it’s desperate and more extreme. He grows less stiff once he hears Thomas’s irregular breathing become steady._ _

__They both jump when a loud vibrating noise goes off, and Newt slowly pulls his phone out of his pocket. He sees Aris’s name on the screen, and he quickly shoots out a text saying he has Thomas before putting it on the nightstand. He looks down to look at Thomas, but he’s met with messy brown hair._ _

__Thomas is alarmingly silent, and he wonders if he fell asleep. His own self calms down to where he’s no longer fighting the urge to throw up from worry. He looks at the clock to find it to be pretty late, and he feels utterly exhausted. Handling Thomas was a workout of its own, and he doesn’t know what he’s going to do. He has an essay to write, and how can he work on it with Thomas being like this? Aris, himself, even admitted that there was something wrong with Thomas. The possible toll he will be going through for the rest of the time knowing Thomas flashes in his mind, and his body aches at the mere thought._ _

__He remembers Sonya and what she said about this. Maybe she’s right. With Alby, it had taken over and ruined his life until their fallout. He remembers being so tired and unthinking, that he nearly didn’t finish his schoolwork. His body had been drained, and he remembers those all-nighters with Alby trying to help him, fighting with him, and calming him down._ _

__Does he want to go through that again?_ _

__“Newt…”_ _

__Newt is pulled from his thoughts by the whisper of his name. He tenses when the arm around him wraps around him more, pulling their bodies closer. Thomas brings half his body further on top of Newt, and he moves his face to Newt’s neck. The hand that wasn’t under Newt searches for Newt’s hand, and the blond gives it willingly._ _

__The handholding is nice and calming, and Newt hears soft snores coming from the sleeping boy. Their hands lay beside their bodies, and Newt finds himself grinning at the sight of Thomas’s rather large hand covering his own._ _

__He looks back at his vibrating phone, seeing Aris’s name on the screen. He knows Aris is probably wanting to tell him about what is wrong with Thomas, or ask if he wants to know. His brain yells at him to reach out and read the text, ask Aris to tell him everything he knows about Thomas._ _

__He wants to know about Thomas. He wants to know every detail about the boy._ _

__He wants to know him by his own terms._ _

__He doesn’t know why he doesn’t pick up the phone._ _


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Newt learns some new things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had fun writing this chapter ! I hope you guys like it. Please comment your thoughts <3

Newt presses the metal button, coinciding with the play directly in front of him. The wind causes his hair to fly into his eyes, and he checks the small screen to make sure he caught the moment. He smiles when he sees a good shot of the player kicking the ball in mid-air. 

A small ding snatches his attention, and he pulls out his phone. The name that pops on the screen makes his stomach flip. 

_Have you filled any of your photo albums?_

Cursing under his breath, Newt types out a quick answer. 

_You really don’t need to know that._

He doesn’t understand why Alby insists on continuing to text him. He’s turned him down each time, only responding with the vaguest answer or rudest one – based on his mood – but Alby keeps texting him. He wishes for Alby to stop, not wanting to keep being reminded of the bad memories. Every text he reads, he feels pain radiate through his leg. On the other hand, he wants to return home to look through his old photo albums, peer over his times with the other male. 

That’s when he turns off his phone. 

He jerks up when he hears someone walking over to him, and his face turns red once he sees it’s Sonya. Her purple beanie keeps her hair from flying around from the wind. Sonya grins and crosses her arms. 

“You know, you can block him,” she reminds him. Newt shrugs, putting his phone back into his pocket. He brings his camera up to take a few more shots. 

“I should, but I can never get to that point.” Sonya nods in understanding. 

They are silent for awhile, the silence disturbed by the click of Newt’s camera and the shouts from the soccer game. The wind is harsh, though it doesn’t hinder the soccer players. Newt zooms in when he finally catches Thomas in the frame. Thomas’s jaw is clenched, his eyebrows are furrowed, and all the muscles in his legs are strained as he runs. Newt imagines what his arms look like from under his sleeves. He waits for Thomas to get the ball before taking a few pictures and taking a few for himself. He slips up with control over his lips, smiling as he sees Thomas cheer over winning a goal. 

“Schizophrenia? Schizoaffective?” 

“It’s possible,” Newt comments stiffly. 

“Substance-induced?” Sonya tries again. 

“Explains why his step-dad wants to make sure he’s okay all the time,” Newt replies with a shrug. Sonya bites her lip. 

“Did you ask Mom?” 

“Yeah, but she said that she doesn’t have enough information. She says it could be numerous of things,” Newt explains disappointedly. He takes a couple of pictures of the coaches. “He has anxiety. I know that for sure, and he doesn’t sleep some nights.” 

“Newt, I think you should just ask his step-dad,” Sonya suggests again with a huff. Newt sighs, letting go of his camera to let it hang from his neck. He hates how he told Aris to keep quiet about Thomas around Sonya. The last thing he wants is for Aris to keep any secrets from her, but this was probably the only exception. “Why would he keep information like this from you? You’re his roommate, and you need to know how to help him if he needs it.” 

Newt runs his fingers through his hair nervously. Frankly, he has no idea why he doesn’t want to ask Janson or Aris about Thomas. Without a doubt, they know, but Newt doesn’t feel comfortable with asking. He hates thinking that this is some sort of game – a guessing game of sorts – but he wants to know Thomas personally. He wants to figure him out all on his own, and Aris said so himself that he hasn’t talk to Thomas in years. Who knows how different things have gotten. 

Instead of being specific, Newt tells her, “I’m going to the hospital after the game.” 

Sonya nods. “Good.” 

“Hey, pretty thang.” 

Newt grins at the sound of Minho, and he looks over to see Minho with his arm on Sonya’s shoulder. His smirk is effortless, and Sonya rolls her eyes. She cocks her head to the side and flashes a smile. “I’m doing great, babe. Kiss?” 

As soon as the question is out, Sonya is suddenly pulled from Minho and into an appearing Aris’s embrace. “I disapprove,” he declares with a fake glare at the Asian male, who is now laughing along with Sonya. 

Teresa comes up and wraps her arms around Minho’s middle from behind, soda in hand. She puts her chin on his shoulder with an amused grin. She winks at Aris. “Don’t worry, he knows he’s mine.” 

Minho huffs, bringing his hands up to tangle their fingers together. The position they’re in is a cute one, and Newt starts imagining how soft Thomas’s hands are. He goes back to taking pictures to divert from those thoughts. 

He drops his camera when he sees Thomas looking at him, in fact waving at him with a big smile. His face is pink, his hair is sweaty, and he’s breathing in deep breaths. His breath is visible in the cold air. He looked incredibly attractive, and Newt wonders how he looks like this when he’s sweating. Remembering that Thomas is waving, he waves back at him with a responding small smile. He tenses when he looks at his right to find Sonya grinning with a raised eyebrow. Newt rolls his eyes, hoping his face isn’t as red as he thinks. 

“Honeybun here is turning twenty next Friday,” Minho starts with a laugh, laughing harder when Teresa squeezes his hands harshly. “Going to have a party at my friend, Winston’s, place. You guys are invited as long as you bring princess a present.” 

“Stop!” Teresa scolds at the nicknames, yet she laughs because he uses them all the time. Newt has caught on to how he switches from ‘honeybun’ to ‘princess’. He also caught on to how Teresa actually likes when he calls her those names. 

“Newt, you can invite Thomas,” Teresa tells him after hitting Minho’s arm. A smirk plays on her lips, and he feels his face redden. He looks away to sneak a peek at Thomas, who is now sitting on the bench. His team all have proud expressions on their faces, and he concludes that the game is over. 

He puts his camera in his bag. “I’ll invite him. See you guys later, okay? I have errands and then work.” 

He waves goodbye to them before making his way to his car. He settles his bag on the passenger seat, and he turns the car on. Not having been driving lately, the snow on the streets makes him nervous. He’s happy when he sees the bright sign on the side of the street, and he pulls into the parking lot. He makes his way inside, and he looks at all the names on the department board. 

**Pediatrician**

**Dr. R. Janson**

Noticing the room number, he goes into the elevator and clicks the correct floor number. Once the doors open again, he walks out and into a long hallway. He walks by a nursery, glancing around at everyone’s nametags. 

Sighing in disappointment, Newt turns around to leave, but then he notices the open door a little way down. He looks at the name on the door and his stomach flips. 

_Dr. R. Janson_

He peeks his head in and finds the room empty. He sees a briefcase and a backpack, proving that he is in the building. 

He is about to turn to find Janson, but something catches his eye. He looks back at the table, focusing on the red folder laying by itself right in front of the chair. After glancing to see if the coast was clear, he takes a few steps inside the room. One word on top of the folder has an alarm ringing in his mind and his heart skipping a beat. 

Greene. 

Newt snatches up the folder and looks again at the name. There is a name along with Greene. 

Greene, Jacob.

He opens the folder, and the first thing he sees is a mugshot of a man. The man has to be Jacob Greene. All the photo shows is his round face, crooked nose, nearly bald head, and his deathly glare. Newt begins to feel queasy as he begins to read. 

Jacob Greene. 6’2. Brown hair, brown eyes. Charged with child neglect. Five years in federal prison- 

Newt is startled out of his concentration by the sound of footsteps coming closer in the hallway. The folder drops through his fingers, and his hands shake as he searches for a hiding spot. He spots a door, and he hopes it is closet. He sprints over and goes inside, grateful to find that it is indeed a closet. He closes it most of the way, and he bites his lip nervously when Janson walks in. 

Janson is fairly tall, the hair around his ears mostly gray, a long leather jacket covers his shoulders to his knees, and he hurries to his desk with hunched shoulders. He picks up the folder with haste, and he reads the first page. 

His face is now in Newt’s vision, and he completely stills when he sees how utterly worried Janson looks. The more he reads though, worry is mixed with anger more and more. Newt jumps when Janson suddenly throws the folder down harshly and grabs for his phone. Whoever he calls answers quickly. 

“Bart!” Janson barks, causing Newt to jump back further into the closet. “What do you mean he’s off parole? Eyes need to be on him at all times.” 

The ache in Newt’s leg intensifies as he balances and tries to stay still quietly. His mind is spinning with questions. Who is Jacob Greene? Is it Thomas’s father? How was he charged with child neglect? What exactly did he do? Why is Thomas’s step-dad worried? 

A loud thud pulls Newt out of his thoughts, and he covers his mouth when he almost curses. 

“I don’t care what you have to do. You keep your eyes on him. I can’t have him on the loose without any idea on where or what he is doing. Thomas-“ 

“Dr. Janson? Sara Beth isn’t responding well to the medicine. She may be allergic.” 

Janson sighs and takes the phone away from his lips. “I’ll be right there. Give her to her mother, and I’ll be right there.” Newt hears the nurse leave the room. Janson goes back to his phone call. “Bart? Just watch him. I don’t want him anywhere near Thomas, you hear me?” 

Newt watches Janson hang up and sit down in his chair. He puts his face in his hands with a long and heavy sigh. Newt watches nervously as Janson goes back to reading the contents in the folder. 

Why did he want Jacob Greene to be kept away from Thomas? What is going on? Does Thomas know?

Newt hides behind the door when he hears Janson stand up. He watches as he walks around his desk and towards the door, and he listens as his footsteps get quiet the farther he gets. Once Newt no longer hears him, he sneaks over to the table to look at the folder again. He eyes the clock, seeing that he is going to be late to class if he doesn’t leave now.   
He opens the folder to read over the page again. His stomach spins when he sees the name for spouse. 

**Spouse: Mary Greene – deceased**

He reads until the very end, where Jacob Greene’s children are listed. 

**Corinthia Greene  
Thomas Greene**

**

A delirious sound comes from the expresso machine behind him, and Newt tries to keep his lips sealed as he cashes out a customer. He childishly glares at the steamer wand, planning on again telling Jorge that the machine is a piece of junk. He doesn’t know how many times he’s been trying to work with that machine, and it never plays nice. Unfortunately, the demonic machine always ends up working just fine for Jorge. 

He wants to tape a sheet of paper with the word ‘devil’ written on it on the stupid thing. 

Another fun thing as well is that today is Monday; the busiest day of the week. The place has been filled to the brim by people, and it hasn’t for one minute slowed down. The day has so far gone by with yelling, complaining, screaming, cursing, and messes. Monday was the deal with deals, which are taken for granted by greedy people. Said people never pay without complaining about someone or something, and they never clean up after themselves. 

Only five minutes ago did Newt have to pull the trash bins, and then have the rugs be drenched by coffee. Did no one see the drains on the counter? What did they think those are for? 

Also, if another bloody couple comes in, Newt is going to lose it. At least thirty couples have come in and proceeded to explicitly make-out in front of him, while he is trying to take their order. He is by no means not a fan of showing affection, but he definitely does not kiss that way in front of anyone. 

The only couple he lets get away with it is Minho and Teresa, who had kindly come in due to his crucial request for his friends. They had come at the best time, because Rosie the impolite old lady who comes in every day was behind them in line. Newt gladly told them to take their sweet time ordering – definitely worth the annoying complaining. 

“Excuse me? Do you have anything gluten-free?” 

Knowing his face is not in view due to cleaning the steamer wand, Newt’s eyes roll to the back of his head. How many people must ask that stupid question? 

“No, we do not. Sorry,” Newt apologizes, ready for the back-talk he earned with the slightly irked tone he used. 

“Oh, okay. Thanks.” Well, that saved him a disapproving talk with Jorge. 

It would be a somewhat better day if the time stuck in Janson’s office didn’t rerun in his head repeatedly. The whole thing is insane. Janson was actually tormented over Thomas’s father getting to Thomas. Thomas’s father went to prison for five years for child neglect. What does that mean? What did he do? Is he going to find Thomas? Does Thomas know?   
Newt feels nausea the more he thinks about Thomas being in danger. He no longer lives with his dad for a reason. His dad can’t find him. It also doesn’t make it any better to know that Thomas’s mum is dead. What happened to her? Did his dad do something? 

Also, who was Corinthia? Where was she? Didn’t Thomas say she’s with his parents? Is she okay- 

Wait. If Thomas said that his sister is with his parents, then he doesn’t know that his mum is dead. 

With a sigh, Newt goes into the office to find some Tylenol for his forming headache. This is too much. This got so much more complicated. 

Seeing as no one is coming in the store at the moment, Newt takes his time to go clean the bagel case. Stealing the brush from Frypan, he goes over to the case and begins to remove the individual cases on the top shelf. After, he brushes off the crumbs and then washes the steel with a sanitized rag. He puts the cases back and starts to work on the middle shelf. He has to stop a few times to take people’s orders, but he eventually gets to the last shelf. 

Because of a stubborn crusted glob of crumbs, he has to reach far into the case to scrub the shelf clean. He sees someone walk up to the glass case, and he finishes cleaning before moving to get out. He takes a sneaky glance at the customer again, but he bumps the top of his head with the shelf on top of him with a yelp once he sees who it is. 

It’s Thomas. Though, he looks…incredibly different. Newt pretends to rub at his aching head to take a minute to observe what exactly is in front of him. 

It’s Thomas, but a Thomas that he hasn’t seen before. The brunet is wearing green converse and black skinny jeans, jeans that hug every curve of his body from the waist down. Upwards he is wearing a light-green striped shirt with a thin, silky long-sleeved jacket over it. Then, he has brown rounded glasses on the end of his nose with a black fedora placed on top of his head. 

Newt is speechless. 

_What the bloody hell is he wearing?_

Thomas has a hip cocked to the side with his arms folded as he reads over the menu. Newt takes that time to process him, but unfortunately studies too hard to notice that Thomas is glaring at him. 

“You know, I can go somewhere else to get some dollar-valued food.” 

Newt’s jaw drops in shock. His blood runs cold and he straightens his back in defense. “Excuse me for being thrown off by...” Newt gestures towards Thomas’s body uncomfortably. Thomas cocks an eyebrow. 

“Is this the new standard now? Insult your customers? If so, then you’re doing a fabulous job,” Thomas retorts maliciously. Newt’s jaw nearly falls to the floor and he balls up his fists. He feels the eyes of Frypan on him, but he ignores him. He can only hope that Frypan doesn’t go running off to Jorge to gossip about him arguing with a customer. 

Newt furrows his eyebrows. “Why are you being like this? I’m sorry if I sounded like I was insulting your new…attire, but honestly can you blame me? You’ve never worn clothes like that,” Newt excuses with minimum attitude. He’s been known to protect his dignity and defend his opinions. He’s never noticed Thomas wearing any type of clothing similar to what he is wearing right now. He didn’t intend to stare, but the sight surprised him. From the glasses to Thomas’s silky jacket, the look was incredibly different to his normal outfits. He would’ve definitely noticed if Thomas wore something like this any time before. 

Then again, Thomas had multiple drawers full of clothes. There is a chance that Thomas just hadn’t worn this particular type of clothes yet. 

“You know what? I’m going to go,” Thomas grunts out with eyes glaring daggers into Newt. The tension between them makes Newt’s shoulders grow stiff. His stomach flips in nervousness and anxiety. 

Thomas leans against the glass case on folded arms. Newt can smell a hint of aftershave waft off the brunet, and it fogs his mind for a second. “I don’t need a judgmental blondie, who works in a lame bagel shop, to be looking at me like I have two heads,” Thomas spats with a clenched jaw and fisted hands. 

Newt jumps with a low yelp when Thomas suddenly bangs on the glass. His shoes clap the ground as he storms out, leaving Newt behind with a beet red face. 

The shock sinks deep inside Newt’s chest, and he dashes to the public restroom. He locks the door with a slam and drops to his knees to spit bile up into the toilet. His throat burns, and he rinses out his mouth right after. He dries his mouth with a paper towel, and he keeps from smelling his own breath. His knees wobble, his stomach churns, and he realizes now how rapid his breathing is. 

A whimper slips through his lips at the sudden pain in his chest as he tries to breathe. It’s little pain due to never having panic attacks, and he knows what to do to calm down. His mum’s words ring in his head, but he doesn’t follow the steps. 

Thomas didn’t know him. There was no recognition in Thomas’s brown eyes. He treated him as if he was some hypocritical person on the street, that he dealt with every day.   
He doesn’t know what to do. Sonya was right. This is too much. They were friends, and Thomas acted like he had no idea who Newt was. Something was seriously wrong with him.   
What’s worse is he’s heard about his mum’s patients. He’s read the books in her office. He’s done research on almost all disorders. The concept has always intrigued him, and he had promised himself that he would help someone in need. 

The problem here is: he has no idea where to start. He doesn’t know what is wrong with Thomas. it’s too much of a complicated puzzle for him to figure out. Too many twists and turns in this mystery, and he doesn’t know how to keep up. The answer is at the back of his head, and he doesn’t know if he’ll ever reach it. 

Also, what is with Thomas’s dad? Is he mental? Is he insane? Is he a killer? The paper only listed child neglect, which can’t possibly be close to the truth due to how bothered Janson had been about him not being watched anymore. That was yet another twist that he can’t begin to think about. How was he ever going to find answers? The answer is never. He can’t ask Thomas or Janson. 

He could ask Aris, but the thought of that makes his head hurt worse. Newt doesn’t know if he even wants to. It was a step too high, a hook he can’t reach, too far from his present comfort zone. 

Newt hates to admit, but Alby was easier than this. He had known right away what was wrong with Alby. It was obvious and simple, a case so common nowadays. This one though…nowhere near common or simple. 

A knock taps on the door, and a wave of nausea runs down Newt’s spine. He takes a minute to calm his stomach down.

“Newt, you alright?” Gally asks. Newt sighs, looking at himself in the mirror. His eyes are red all around, and he is pale as paper. He sucks in one breath before answering. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’ll be right out.” 

***

Newt trudges through the snow, feet growing heavier the closer he gets to his dorm. He doesn’t want to talk to Thomas, and he especially doesn’t want to see him. He wants to get his homework and paper done, eat peacefully, and then go to bed. Is that so much to ask? 

He winces as he opens the door, and he peers around to find it empty. He curses himself for not thinking. Of course Thomas is gone. He’s almost never here. He’s only been sick for the past week and a half. He’s now back to his regular schedule that consists of work, art, and whatever else he does. A slow burn of irritation forms in his chest, imagining Thomas having multiple lives. Was Thomas planning on never telling Newt anything? He has no idea what he does in his spare time, why he’s always acting so odd, and he doesn’t explain anything from him out naked in the snow to him yelling about someone being angry at him. 

Has Thomas never had any friends that thought this way? Who never questioned him? How can anyone know Thomas and not go crazy with questions? 

Newt pulls his phone out of his pocket when he hears a ding. He looks to find a text from Sonya. 

_There are posters in the study hall calling for a photographer <3 come check it out_

Needing a distraction, Newt changes out of his working clothes and into something more comfortable. He then leaves the dorms and heads to the study center. 

It takes about ten minutes to get there, and he shivers as he walks in. The building is huge, the walls all glass. There are three floors in it with around ten private study rooms. It’s a pretty helpful place considering the wifi is fast and there’s always never too many people. 

He walks over to the main entertainment board, looking for the poster. He finds it at the very left edge, and he puts the phone number into his phone. He thinks about calling now, but then he looks to his right and see Thomas. His stomach flips inside out. 

Thomas is sitting on a couch with his laptop in his lap. He changed clothes because he’s now wearing a Five Nights At Freddy shirt and black converse. He’s not wearing the fedora or those glasses. He looks so different, and it makes Newt’s head spin. 

He doesn’t realize he’s walking over until Thomas glances up and notices him, and he waves at him with a small smile. 

Anger festers at the pit of Newt’s stomach, and his hands form into fists. 

Hasn’t he been mindfucked enough? 

“What the hell was that at my work?” Newt shouts, ignoring the few looks he gets. Thomas furrows his eyebrows and he sets his laptop to the side to stand up. 

“What do you mean?” Thomas asks in confusion. Newt rolls his eyes and crosses his arms. 

“You came into my work and proceeded to act as if you had no idea who I was. You also had some ridiculous clothes on. Are you trying to confuse the fuck out of me? Because you certainly are succeeding!” Newt bites out, feeling all the confusion and irritation boiling in his chest. He knows deep inside him that he’s being a prick, but he’s tired. He’s tired of being messed with all the time, always wondering who he’s going to wake up to every morning. Going to Janson’s office and reading that folder also stirred irritation through him. What is he dealing with? Does Thomas even know? Does he know about his own father? “It’s a damn guessing game every time I see you! Who is Thomas going to be like today? Who is he now?” 

Feeling guilt begin to swirl inside his stomach, he storms out of the building. He nearly slips as he walks out to the parking lot to his car. His hands remain tight around the wheel the whole drive, and he tries to calm down his heart and slow his breathing. 

He needs a new bloody roommate. 

**

“Finally going to get a new one? That’s great, Newt. I’m tired of seeing you so tensed and stressed over that,” Teresa congrats him. She smiles and nudges his shoulder. They sit at a table at the bowling alley. The table is high, and Teresa’s legs dangle from where she sits. Newt’s toes just barely skim the floor. “Dorm mates can really suck sometimes. Though I thought you liked Thomas.” 

Newt shrugs, taking a sip of his soda. “I did, but I guess it’s too overwhelming now. I realized I shouldn’t have to deal with someone so confusing. I shouldn’t waste my time, and I need to focus on more important things.” The words feel like acid on his tongue.

Teresa nods. “Yeah, that’s true. Maybe his next roommate will be better for him, or someone who doesn’t care so much,” she teases with a wink. Newt knows it was supposed to be just a small joke, but it stung to hear that. It made guilt grow at the pit of his stomach. The hurt in Thomas’s eyes when he said those things to him at the study center flashes in his head, and he sighs. 

“Hope so,” Newt whispers. He plays with the glow in the dark necklace laying on his chest. It’s a special today. Everyone is wearing white t-shirts and the necklaces. It felt more like a nightclub rather than a bowling alley. He sees Minho a few yards away dancing to the Macarena with a group of people. 

“Oh, in case you were wondering, I am in desperate need for hiking shoes, so a good gift card for payless or somewhere would be the best birthday gift,” Teresa jokes. “Minho and I are going hiking next month. It’d be cool if you could come.” 

“And watch you two make-out the whole time?” Newt retorts with a laugh. “I’m good.” Teresa pinches his side, causing him to yelp in surprise. He stands up to get away from the assaults. Teresa pokes her tongue at him. 

“We do not make-out during our walks. We hold hands most of the time, that’s it,” she argues. Newt shrugs. 

“Too much for me,” Newt states. Teresa rolls her eyes and reaches her leg out to kick at his shins. Newt jumps out of the way with a laugh. 

He points to the mini café. “I’m going to get something to eat. Be back,” Newt tells her before walking away. He walks over and orders a hotdog, and he leans patiently against the counter. He cringes at the greasy smell waving through the air, mixing with the smell of sweat. He looks around at the crowded room, and he has to look with hooded eyes due to the flashing lights scattering the walls and ceiling. 

He hears his name called and goes to get his food. He makes a swift turn and runs smack into someone, and he jumps back in surprise at the familiar face. 

Alby. 

“Hey, Newt,” Alby greets easily. He has a small smile, and Newt remembers that smile all too much. Alby is wearing a green shirt, khakis, and tennis shoes. He’s lost weight, Newt notes. After speculating, Newt can feel his heart drop at the realization that Alby is indeed in front of him. He doesn’t know how Alby knew he was here, and he didn’t want to ask. It was most likely pure coincidence, but the past plays in his head. He is no longer hungry, and he wants to leave. 

“Hey, Alby,” Newt squeaks out, barely audible above all the noise in the room. It makes him dizzy as he swerves around Alby’s frame. “I was actually on my way out.”

Alby follows him and Newt wants to run. “You got a hotdog I see.” 

“Food for the road,” Newt easily dodges. He feels nausea forming, and he could puke. He didn’t have a warning of any kind, and he’s overwhelmed. He’s thankful when Alby stops following him. 

“I’ll text you later then. Maybe we could see each other another time, yeah?” Alby suggests with his hands in his pockets. Newt nods subconsciously, walking faster to the front door. 

“Sounds like a plan,” Newt says for a goodbye. He waves to make himself look less tormented, and he can’t tell what Alby is thinking. He tries to push Alby out of his mind as he makes his way out to his car, and he curses at the fact that he just left Teresa without telling her. He sends her a quick text before pulling out of the parking lot and driving to the school. 

Homesickness grows in his belly, and he wants to drive home instead of the school. He wants to talk to his mum. He wants to see her. Her presence would make him easily calm down. That’s what he needs more than anything right now. 

He sighs when he gets to the school, staring at the door to his dorm. He doesn’t know whether Thomas is inside. It’s nearly midnight though, and he normally gets to the dorm around eleven from wherever he’s been all day. Nausea comes back when he puts his hand on the doorknob and opens the door. He looks to the left to see that it’s empty. He walks in with a sigh of his breath, but his heart picks up when he hears the sound of keys being tapped. 

He closes the door slowly, feeling for the tension in the room. All he can feel is angst and anxiety, and he notices the dark bags under Thomas’s eyes. He eyes the books and papers scattered on his bed. 

The sight makes him feel guiltier, Thomas obviously worrying about his schoolwork, and Newt yelling at him did nothing to help. It probably only stressed Thomas more, knowing he doesn’t have Newt as a friend. 

Newt walks to his own bed and sits down. He trails a finger along the blanket. “What are you doing?” 

At first, Thomas stays silent. His eyes are wide as he types, and Newt bites his lip nervously. Thomas’s hair is ruffled, reminding Newt of sex hair. He imagines running his fingers through it, tangling his fingers in it-

He's the one who’s bipolar. Thomas is the one who deserves better. 

“I’m writing my English paper,” Thomas mumbles in response, only slightly slowing down in his typing. He glances down at the open book beside him, scrunching up his nose as he thinks. A moment later he groans and grabs at his hair, and his legs and arms twitch in anticipation. Newt finds himself yearning to get his camera. “I am not a writer at all. I think I’m writing like an amateur.” 

Taking this as an opportunity to make peace, Newt stands up and goes to sit next to Thomas. “What are you writing about?”

“Just a book report. Looking For Alaska. Which character do I relate to the most. I say Alaska. Though, I can’t write enough reasons to take up five pages. I don’t know how anyone can,” Thomas grumbles and pouts. Newt chuckles. 

“Do you want me to read it over and add more? I’m pretty good at writing long papers. My sister is an English minor,” Newt offers confidently. He reaches over Thomas’s lap for the book. “Also, I read this,” he continues. He side-eyes Thomas. “I’d also say you relate to Alaska. You don’t seem certain with yourself,” Newt bravely adds. 

Thomas lays back with a huff, running his fingers through his hair. Newt stares at the long fingers. “Yeah. If you want to, then yes please. I’d appreciate it.” 

Newt nods, scooting the laptop closer to him. He skims through the paper, fixing and adding. He gives advice to Thomas including to not use first person, and Thomas nods. A few minutes in, Newt hears Thomas sit up again, and he feels air hit his shoulder. He fights to keep reading. 

Newt gets more into the paper the more he reads. He nods at the points where Thomas compares himself to Alaska. The comparison of their shared confusion over what they want is thrilling. They both read into things, looking for things that intrigue them. 

**Both messed up in the head.**

_What?_

**The only way out of the labyrinth of suffering is to forgive.**

**Imagining the future is a kid of nostalgia. You spend your whole life stuck in the labyrinth, thinking about how you’ll escape it one day, and how awesome it will be, and imagining that future keeps you going, but you never do it. You just use the future to escape the present.**

A shiver runs down Newt’s spine as he reads, not believing what he’s reading. Is Thomas calling himself a labyrinth? Does he know he’s confusing? Did Thomas take his words and put them into this paper? 

The thought of Thomas knowing that he’s confusing and calling himself a maze hurts Newt. He’s thought of Thomas as a maze a million times, but reading it right here in front of him takes him by surprise. The paper sounds as if he was reading his own thoughts. He wonders how much Thomas knows. He wants to know why Thomas never brought it up. He’s had many opportunities to do so, but he never took them. 

Was Thomas afraid? Has he ever told anyone? Did Aris and Gally know because he told them, or did they figure it out? 

“Is it good?” 

The question makes Newt jump, and he clears his throat. “Yes, it’s good. Do you really think like this? Do you really think you’re a labyrinth?” 

It’s a fragile question, Newt knows. He’s afraid Thomas won’t answer. He knows he’s in uncharted territory, though he believes the territory has always been there. He’s only been brave enough to graze it, and now he’s stepping a few feet into it. On the contrary, Thomas seems to be letting him with the fact that he’s letting Newt read his paper. A paper that is intimate on many levels, yet any other person wouldn’t realize it. 

When he doesn’t get an answer, he scoots the laptop back to Thomas. He was able to make three pages into four. It’s silent in the room, and Newt looks at his bed wondering if he should go back. 

“Yeah, I believe so,” Thomas finally says. “A labyrinth so difficult, I haven’t even been able to solve.”

**

Newt opens the dorm door with one hand, a plastic bag swinging in his other one. He looks over at Thomas’s bed and finds him barely awake, rubbing at his eyes sleepily. It’s an adorable sight, and Newt eyes his camera that is hanging on a hook on the wall beside the door. He waves it off and puts the bag in front of Thomas, who widens his eyes at it.   
He grabs the bag happily; the biggest smile plays on his lips. “You got me iHop?” 

Newt nods. “I didn’t know what you liked exactly because you’re always gone in the morning, so I got a bunch of random things. Eggs, bacon, sausage, and pancakes.”

This is a ‘I’m a prick and I’m sorry’ gift. 

Thomas opens the bag, softly smiling. “You didn’t have to get me breakfast. You did help me with my paper,” he tells Newt. He pulls his blanket over his lap and pulls the plate of eggs and bacon out of the bag. “I am not complaining at all though.”

Newt laughs lightly. “Well, I do have to admit that it’s an apology breakfast.” 

“It’s fine,” Thomas shrugs off between chewing. “Do you have work?” 

“Yeah,” Newt answers, gathering an idea. “I, um… I actually have a project for humorous naturalistic settings. I need to get started on it. Do you mind if…” Newt reaches for his camera. “If I take a picture of you like this?” 

Thomas stops mid-chew with his eyes widened, clearly startled by the request. His eyes glance around himself, probably wondering why Newt wants to take a picture of him. Newt bites his lip to keep from explaining that he doesn’t want to forget how Thomas looked like here. 

“I guess if it helps,” Thomas agrees. His face is beet red, and he doesn’t meet Newt’s eyes. Newt bites his lip. 

“You don’t have to,” Newt comforts. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” 

“It’s fine,” Thomas tells him more confidently. He settles more into the bed. “Take as many as you need.” 

Newt beams, bringing the camera up to his face to look through it. “I might keep one for myself then.” 

He definitely did not mean to say that. His heart skips a beat, and he wishes he could take those words back. 

When he takes the first picture, he’s pleasantly surprised to see Thomas blushing with a half-smile.


End file.
